


Challenge Six: Crossovers/Fusions

by Anonymous



Category: Merlin (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-21
Updated: 2012-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-10 09:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 97,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/464979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Entries for <a href="http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/84092.html">Challenge Six: Crossovers/Fusions</a> for summerpornathon 2012</p><p>Voting post can be found <a href="http://summerpornathon.livejournal.com/84686.html">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Group A (with warnings)

**1**  
Fusion: The Hunger Games

Merlin spread his arms and legs across the bed and moved them as though making an angel in the snowy white sheets. "I can't get over these sheets. You never told me. We don't have anything like this back home."

"That's why I didn't tell you." Arthur paced by the foot of the bed. Merlin's grins of wonderment were driving him mad. He loved Merlin more than anything else in this fucked up, horrible world, but he wanted to shake that ridiculous smile off his face. They only had a few hours before the Hunger Games began: so little time to figure out how to keep Merlin alive.

"I think I want another shower." Merlin got up and gave Arthur a look. "Join me?"

The clock ticked in Arthur's head, louder and louder with every wasted second. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"Come on. I'll set the fragrance controls to freesia. I know it's your favorite. You should have been reaped with the girls your year."

Arthur had never really been reaped at all; at eighteen he had volunteered as tribute, as he had trained to do his entire life. Then he had gone into the arena and killed twenty-three other kids until he won the right to come home to Merlin.

Merlin, who should have been safe. Merlin, who had never trained to fight and kill like the rest of them. Merlin, who was two years younger than Arthur and only had to survive one last reaping.

Merlin, who took the stage without a flicker of fear when his name was called into a silence that echoed like a scream in Arthur's head. For the first time in decades, nobody volunteered -- and Arthur no longer could.

"Fine." Merlin kicked off his briefs, no doubt delighting in leaving them for someone else to clean up. "But if you don't hurry, I'm programming the honeysuckle body oil and you'll just have to live with it."

Arthur didn't want a shower, but he couldn't stand to be apart from Merlin for a minute when they had so few minutes left. He stripped and barged into the shower stall. Merlin started to turn, but Arthur pinned him face first against the wall. 

"Don't go for the weapons," he said into Merlin's ear. "Run. Hide. Let them kill each other off for a while."

"That's not what you did," Merlin mumbled against the wet tile. "I don't need to run."

"Merlin, you've had exactly two days of combat training in your entire pathetic life. I was trained to kill since birth." With two Victors for parents, he'd never had a chance for anything else.

"But I have my own advantages." Merlin turned his head, baring his teeth in a feral grin and letting Arthur see the golden glow in his eyes.

He couldn't answer. An idiotic risk, but he couldn't bring himself to forbid anything that might bring Merlin back to him.

So he slicked his cock and fucked him as hard as he could instead, until Merlin was grunting and clawing at the shower walls. Arthur seized his wrists and pinned them to the tile above their heads. 

"I want you to feel this tomorrow." Arthur drove into him, wild with need. "I want you to remember, every time you take a step, why you have to stay alive."

Merlin’s words struggled out around his gasps. "To be honest, staying alive is pretty good incentive all by itself."

"Stop. Joking." He buried his face in Merlin's neck and choked out his orgasm. Under his eyelids, the two tributes he had mentored last year died over and over again. 

"Just think what a tragic figure you'll cut in the Capitol. The lovelorn Victor. Sponsors will flock to you.” Merlin clenched around his softening cock, trying to work up enough stimulation to come. "That poor dear, they'll say. The odds weren't in his favor after all."

He trailed off as he worked himself to the point of climax and came with a long, wordless cry.

After, Arthur rubbed a towel over Merlin's shoulders, but Merlin stayed pressed against the wall. 

"Come on," Arthur said, kissing his cheek. "You need to sleep."

Merlin's laugh startled him. "You really think I have any chance of sleeping tonight?" When he turned around, Arthur finally saw the fear in his eyes. "You really think I have any chance of making it home?"

Arthur pulled Merlin against him, wrapping them both in freesia-scented warmth. "Yes. We'll always beat the odds."

He couldn’t allow himself to believe anything else.

* * *

**2**  
 **Warnings:** sex trade work/prostitution  
 **Fusion:** Pretty Woman

 

Slumped down on the sofa, Arthur's legs are sprawled out. It's been a terribly long day and he's knackered. He should be relaxing because the next week'll be hell, but it's really hard to concentrate when there's a _hooker_ lying on the floor in front of the telly.

Merlin throws a glance over his shoulder. He smiles wide, eyes crinkling at the corners, cheekbones standing out as the light from the television flickers on them. The models for Arthur's fashion house would kill for those cheekbones. 

Arthur's still trying to work out just what convinced him that picking up a hooker, allowing him to drive the damn American rental car through the streets of L.A, and then invite him up into the hotel for the night was a good idea.

Merlin shuffles on his knees to the sofa to between Arthur's legs, slides his hands over Arthur's thighs, and starts to unbutton Arthur's trousers, and _oh yeah_. It'd been too hard to resist; Arthur is constantly surrounded by pretty young people, but none of them have ever been as gorgeous and tempting as this cheeky bloke that swindled money for directions out of him. But Arthur hadn't meant – he's not really like _this_ – and he doesn't expect – 

"Merlin, you don't—"

"What, now?" Merlin asks playfully, his nimble fingers working at Arthur's fly. His British accent is comforting and feels a bit like home. "You seem the serious businessman type, I'm sure you want your money's worth?"

"I—" Arthur's cut off to a groan when Merlin's hand dips into his briefs and rubs his cock. 

"Come on, then," Merlin says, tugging at Arthur's trousers. Arthur's hips automatically lift up and Merlin smoothly pulls them down and gently takes out Arthur's cock. "Hmm, yes," Merlin murmurs, quickly ducking down and nosing at the crease at the top of Arthur's thigh. "God, that's lovely. You are."

Arthur chokes out a laugh that melts into a moan when Merlin lightly strokes his half-hard dick with the tips of his fingers. Merlin reaches into his own pocket, but then he's grinning as he pulls out a condom. "I'll do you up right."

In no time at all, Arthur's wearing a condom and Merlin's talented tongue is licking him, confident and skilled. He mouths kisses up and down, then creates a tight seal around the head, sucking as if his life depended on it. The noise ripped out of Arthur is unlike any he's heard in a long time. He tries to buck up but it doesn't work, Merlin's surprisingly strong grip on his hips keeping Arthur in place.

"Merlin," Arthur says, voice sounding like he's drank five tumblers full of whiskey. He's not sure what to do with his hands, so they flutter lightly to Merlin's shoulder. "Just – come on – I want—"

Arthur doesn't have time to say what he wants – he's not even sure he knows – before Merlin pulls off saying, "It's okay. You can." He takes Arthur's hand and shoves it into his mop of hair. "When I'm ready, you can fuck my mouth." Merlin goes down on him again, and Arthur can feel Merlin's jaw relax and he swallows around his cock and _Christ_ almighty, he's fucking brilliant. 

Merlin squeezes Arthur's hips, grip loosening, and Arthur cannot possibly hold back. His fingers tighten in Merlin's hair, holding his head in place, and Arthur just lets go. He fucks up into that warm, wet mouth, and Merlin takes it, beautiful and eager. 

After Arthur comes, Merlin's cheeky grin is back in place. "I knew you'd like that," he says, smug, and starts to pull away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur says gruffly, pulling Merlin up onto his lap and palming Merlin's hard cock through his tight jeans.

Merlin looks surprised. "You don't – I mean, clients don't usually—"

"I want to," Arthur says. "I want to make you feel that good too." He leans in for a kiss. Merlin hesitates for one brief second, before diving in to capture Arthur's mouth and rock against his hand. He's gorgeous when he comes.

In the morning, Arthur is shoving sketches into his portfolio when he hears Merlin singing badly from the bathroom where he's bathing. Arthur's big showcase is coming up, and his best model both broke up with him _and_ backed out on work and …

And Arthur gets an idea.

He opens the door and catches Merlin's curious eyes. "Merlin, I have a proposition for you."

Merlin smiles.

* * *

**3**  
 **Crossover:** International Cycling  
 **Warnings:** Cycling jargon  & dirty talk

There's a rule: No fucking anything but yourself during a major race. However, in the face of ArthurfuckingPendragon whispering in your ear for _four consecutive Mountain stages_ , Merlin would bet his chance to be in polka dots in Paris that even the mightiest of climbers would crumble. How Merlin ever made it through those mountains, break-away or no, with Arthur leaning out the window of the team car and cursing, cheering him on with his hair--seriously, _his hair_ \--shining in the French sun, well, the fact that Merlin ever made it at all is amazing. 

Because cycling in spandex is hard enough with a cock between your legs and seven hours of racing, let alone a raging boner. 

Which was why Merlin was sneaking into the massage trailer, legs still wobbly from the days stage and belly full of carbs, instead of stumbling back to his own bed to get some sleep. 

Merlin looked down at the stupidly glistening body of his coach and frowned. It wasn't fair that Arthur looked this attractive or that his arse was _that_ perky. Merlin knew for a fact, that Arthur spent way too much time in the team car and hardly anytime on the bike. He didn't deserve this arse. It wasn't fair that Arthur looked like an adonis, while years of training only made Merlin skinnier. Hell, he was probably thinner than the Schleck brothers and fuck, that took effort.

"Massages are for _riders_ ," Merlin scolded, picking up a towel and smacking Arthur's golden arse. "You race-radio whore." 

Arthur didn't even feign surprise, simply rolled over, cock half-hard and practically sitting up and _waving_ to Merlin because fuck, it missed him and if Merlin was being honest with himself, he the feeling was mutual. It had been three weeks since they'd been naked together and it not be for a team medical.

"You're late," Arthur said.

"You're a fucking prick." 

But Merlin was climbing onto his lap anyway, feeling the strength of his thighs—stout like a sprinter's—flex beneath his arse. "Your stupid _mouth_ , Arthur. I almost endoed and bombed that descent because of your mouth." 

Arthur smiled, smug and perfect, his big hands skimming Merlin's shaved legs and going to squeeze pleasantly at his hips. 

"You didn't want to know how much I'd love to suck your dick until all the dots on the _maillot à pois rouges_ fell off?" 

Merlin glared but his cock twitched and fuck it all but Arthur just smiled wider, those beautifully talented fingers tugging at his still-clothed cock with a force that knocked the wind out of Merlin's chest. 

"I will you know," Arthur continued, leaning up to press soft but bitten kisses to Merlin's jaw. They finally kissed, Arthur's mouth hot and wet against Merlin's wind-swollen lips. Merlin jerked his leaking cock into Arthur's hands, staining the front of his shorts.

"You'll what?" Merlin asked breathlessly after their mouths part. 

Arthur laughed, low and perfect—Merlin could feel the vibrations of it on the tip of his cock as Arthur continued to work him, brutal and efficient, just like everything else about Arthur—from his coaching to his mouth. 

"I'll fuck you so hard," Arthur said, nipping at his ear, "that you'll be too focused on that ache in your pretty little hole to think about the ache in your legs." 

Merlin gasped, practically convulsing like a totally spaz in Arthur's arms when he twisted his hand, wrenching his cock and fuck, it burned but fuck—

"I'll fuck you into the _maillot jaune_ ," Arthur promised, words curling around the French terms in a way that had Merlin rumbling toward his orgasm far faster than expected. "And that night, over-looking the _Champs-Élysées_ , I will eat you out, put my tongue inside of you until you beg me and then I'll fuck you bare, come inside you—so that you can tell the press that nothing compares to being the greatest cyclist in the world _and_ being fucked by the biggest, and best dick." 

Merlin came so hard, he didn't even have time to laugh at the dirty-talk turned joke curling off Arthur's tongue in such a way made cycling-jargon the hottest thing _ever_.

Merlin panted, chest heaving as he came down, eyeing Arthur's leaking, naked dick against him. 

"This wasn't supposed to be an individual time-trial," Merlin said, trying not to smile.

Arthur leaned back, all teeth, tugging fingers and waggling eyebrows. "Then come over here and mount my _L'Alpe d'Huez_." 

"Ridiculous," Merlin said, but they were already kissing.

* * *

**4**  
 **Fusion: One Direction**

**Warnings: double penetration, only the barest knowledge of One Direction canon. \**

It didn’t happen the first time they met, locking eyes across the crowded backstage area of the X Factor auditions. The guy had the face of an angel, Louis couldn’t help himself.

“Louis, nice to meet you.”

“Harry, pleasure.” He shakes Louis’ hand, and smiles. 

Louis is doomed.

+++

The memories didn’t come flooding back the first time they kissed. There were no fireworks, no grand gestures of love and faith. Just their own giddy laughter, Harry’s soft mouth and warm breath. 

“Lou,” Harry breathed, and it felt like a command. 

+++

Something is pulling Louis in, something he can’t quite put his finger on, and it’s not connecting. 

Nothing happens when he meets Eleanor. Not even when he explains everything to her. 

“You’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, I thought that’s what you wanted.” Her eyes are sympathetic. She takes his hand. “Lou, people share each other all the time. You aren’t the first person to ask for a polyamorous relationship. You’re not greedy, or selfish, or whatever else you think that’s wrong with you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

+++

It happens, oddly enough, back at the cabin, in the middle of the night during a perfectly good dream. 

Louis jolts in his sleep, the sleeping bag restricting his movement. He looks up at the stars and wills the images of war and blood and fire to die behind his eyes. Beside him, Harry stirs. 

“Lou?”

Louis looks over at Harry, and the final puzzle piece slots into place, lining up the memories with the feeling in his chest. “Merlin,” he finally breathes aloud. Harry surges up and fits his mouth to Louis’. 

+++

Arthur remembers past reincarnations, countless lives and deaths, some with Merlin, some without. 

He remembers faces, different skin colors and locations and trends of dress. But it all fades into the same feeling of flesh meeting flesh, mouths and hands and sweat. Arthur pulls Merlin’s hips closer, drapes over his back to push his face into his neck, revel in the feeling of his warm skin and soft curls. 

When they fuck, it’s hurried, burning hot and bright, pushing forwards, unrelenting. 

+++

Arthur likes this life. It’s brilliant, spending his time making music with Merlin, no wars, no stupid nobility. The other blokes are great, and Eleanor. 

She is a godsend, really. Patient and kind and so, so understanding. She didn’t even blink when Arthur told her what was going on. She didn’t run, like he expected her to. She wanted to stay, to join them even. 

She is sure, steady, like a rock in a storm. She balances them out.

Arthur looks at her over Merlin’s shoulder, and she smiles. Arthur nods, turning to catch Merlin’s eye. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Merlin pants. He rocks a little on Arthur’s cock, pushing his own dick into Arthur’s stomach. Arthur feels Eleanor’s fingers brush over his balls, the base of his cock, and up to slide into Merlin alongside Arthur. Merlin grunts, and Arthur pushes up to kiss him, swallow his sounds. 

“M?” El asks, scraping her teeth over Merlin’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pants, rolling his hips. “Keep going.”

Her cock feels strange lined up with his, her small hand guiding them both into Merlin. It’s incredibly tight, and hot, and Arthur struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to see Merlin react, see El bite her lip in concentration, to watch his dick disappear with hers into Merlin’s ass. 

When they’re fully seated in Merlin, Arthur reaches out to grab El’s hip, feel the strap of the harness dig into her skin. She reaches down and squeezes his hand briefly. She checks in with Merlin once again. 

“Yeah, move, please.”

“Sure,” She smiles again, and Arthur’s chest fills with emotion. He’s so lucky he gets to have this. “Just relax and enjoy yourself, babe.”

Together, the three of them get a rhythm going, her out, him out, both of them back in. Moan, pant, repeat. Unsurprisingly, Merlin breaks first, spilling onto Arthur’s chest and stomach while Eleanor pants into his ear about how good he looks, stretched so wide around the both of them. Merlin clenches around them both, and it sends Arthur over the edge. 

Afterwards, when they’re curled together, clean and tired, Merlin giggles. 

“What?”

“Nothing, just, this is our life this time.”

Arthur thinks through all the shit they’ve been through, together and without each other. They really did luck out, this time. “Yeah, I can’t believe it either.”

* * *

**5**  
Crossover: One Direction

Harry Styles has been a wankered wanderer in his time, but opening his eyes to find he’s outside a pub called The Defiled Boar and wearing a ditch like a cape is a whole new level of _where the fuck..?_ Staggering to his feet, shoving his hair out of his eyes, he lurches to a tree, a blackbird whistling judgementally above. He waves one finger at it, picturing the headline: _In Need Of Re-Harr-bilitation?_ Pop star or not, if his mother finds out about this, she’s going to ground him for a decade.

He stumbles onto a dirt road; slope leading down to a sparkle of stream, while over the brow of the hill curls smoke. He heads for the latter because a) it’s away from the bastard sun, and b) it might be someone with weed.

~*~

All things considered, he’s having a craptacular day so it shouldn’t be a surprise when a gang of paparazzi spring from the trees and charge. Harry flinches anyway; some of them are in severe need of dentistry, and instead of brandishing cameras, bafflingly, they have swords.

As a blow lands on the back of his neck, he thinks, _oh. Ok. We’re not in Cheshire anymore_ , and everything goes soupy under his knees.

~*~

Waking with a groan, Harry blinks at a stone wall sticky with condensation, metal on his tongue. “Am I in prison?”

Some guy with lots of hair and mocking but soulful eyes crouches down next to him. “Welcome to indentured servitude.”

“Blow to the head, here – what’s –?”

“Just be glad you’re a pretty one. Decorative slaves tend to last the longest. I’m Gwaine.”

_Slave? Decorative? You’re too hot to be a Wayne._

Clutching the throb in his head, Harry digs his phone out of his pocket, thinking to text Liam – wonderful, sensible Liam – and tell him he’s in some sort of pit of despair and for once it’s not a metaphor for his Louis-shaped unrequiteds.

As his phone lights up, a guy sporting a loincloth and knock-off Uggs shouts, “Sorcery!” 

Wayne facepalms. “Oh, now you’ve really gone and done it.”

~*~

“So concussion is making me misunderstand the words ‘burnt at the stake’, right? There’s not going to be actual, like, flames?”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Pretty but not blessed intellectually, I see.” 

At the barred window of their cell, Harry – handcuffs cold tightness about his wrists and giving him an ill-advised hard-on – shakes his phone, trying to find enough signal to text his manager an SOS. Desperate times, etc..

~*~

“Last supper, then. What’ll it be?” The guard picks at his teeth, flicking bits of masticated bread at them.

“Just bring us ale,” Wayne says. “Lots of ale.”

Harry meets his eye, stomach stirring with arousal that won’t abate. “You’re my kind of guy.”

~*~

“Here’s a question, then.” Wayne waves his tankard, listing to the side as he sits on his heels, chains coiled around his knees. “What’s the one thing you never did that you really wanted to?”

“Louis Tomlinson. You?” 

“Nah, I done it all.”

Crinkles at the corners of his eyes as their gazes hold say he’s lying; regrets much, deeply. 

Huh. Harry’s always had a bit of thing for syrup-eyed inner torment. Ask Zayn. He bites the back of his own finger, imagining Wayne pulling his hair, manoeuvring him onto his knees, shoving him forward on the stone to fuck, whispering endearments even as his tug hurts.

“Don’t suppose you want to – ” He lifts a brow and lets his eyes trail down to Wayne’s crotch. 

Wayne really is his kind of guy, because he just smirks, and reaches for the knot of his belt.

~*~

Once, Harry joked about handcuffs on stage. Turns out the reality is heavier on chafing and clanking than he thought, but whatever.

Wayne pushes inside him, groaning at the new-fangled marvel that is lube, and claws fire up his back and across his scalp, counterpoint to the damp stone scraping Harry’s cheek.

~*~

Daylight. Outside, a crowd bays. Not unusual, except this one wants his body rendered cindered, not exposed. Harry sighs at the straw-tangled mop next to his. “Fix your hair. Die with dignity, man.”

“No one’s dying. I’ve a plan.” 

Harry kisses him, soft and earnest. “Meet me later at The Defiled Boar for a drink, then?”

“Now there’s an incentive to find my inner hero.” Wayne winks.

Harry laughs. “You’re trouble.”

“I’m salvation.” 

_Or maybe they’re always exactly the same thing._

* * *

**6**  
 **Fusion: Teletubbies**

_One day, in Camelotty Land, Art and Merly Werly decided to have sex._

_They had been working up to it for a long long while, taking their time and not rushing into things._

_First they held hands:_

“Hand Hugs!” Merly Werly shouted, jumping up and down, swinging their joined hands back and forth.

“Shut up, Merly Werly,” said Art. He sounded grumpy.

_Uh oh, Art said a bad word! He hurt Merly Werly’s feelings._

Merly Werly looked sad and pulled his hand away from the Hand Hug.

_Art, you need to say sorry!_

Art folded his arms. 

Merly Werly pouted.

_Look at how sad you’ve made Merly Werly! Say sorry, Art._

“Sorry, Merly Werly.” Art said quietly.

_I didn’t hear that, Art, did you, Merly Werly?_

Merly Werly shook his head.

_Say it like you mean it, Art._

Art turned to Merly Werly and reached out to take Merly Werly’s hand into a Hand Hug once more. 

“Sorry, Merly Werly.” 

“’s okay,” replied Merly Werly, and smiled. 

***

 

_Then they hugged:_

_Art spent all day frolicking outside with Gwennie, playing in the daisies, laughing and singing. When he finally came back to the Lotty Castle, Merly Werly looked sad._

“Why are you sad, Merly Werly?” 

“You were gone,” replied Merly Werly, curling up in the big comfy chaise.

“Yes.” Art didn’t get it.

“Missed you,” Merly Werly clarified, looking at Art with sad eyes.

“Oh,” said Art. He sat next to him. “You’re silly,” Art told him and wrapped his stocky red arms around Merly Werly. 

_Aww, Art hugged Merly Werly! Hug him back! Hug him back!_

Merly Werly turned to Art and wrapped his arms around him. They both smiled.

***

_Then they kissed:_

It was the day when Morgie decided she did not like Camelotty Land anymore and took her share of daisies, her favourite pillow, and half of the Lotty treasure with her. Art was sad.

“I’m sad,” Art said, resting his head on Merly Werly’s shoulder. 

“Maybe she’ll come back?” Merly Werly petted Art.

“She took her sleep juice.” 

Merly Werly gasped. Now he looked sad, too.

“Will everyone leave me?” Art asked, looking up at Merly Werly. “Will you?”

Merly Werly looked back, and shook his head, saying, “Never ever, Art. I will never leave you.”

Art smiled then, big and bright. “You’re the best, Merly Werly,” he told him. 

Merly Werly smiled back.

They leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched. 

_Merly Werly and Art were kissing. Let’s leave them alone._

*** 

_And so it went. But after the hand hugs and the body hugs and the kissing, Art and Merly Werly were ready for the next step:_

“Are you sure about this, Art?” Merly Werly asked, lying down on Art’s big comfy bed, in his soft, silky sheets. 

Art rubbed Merly Werly’s belly, making him vibrate and purr. He nodded. 

Merly Werly smiled at Art and kissed him, his tongue licking into Art’s mouth, meeting Art’s tongue in a dance. 

Art continued rubbing Merly Werly’s belly until the wand on the top of his head began to grow longer and thicker. 

Merly Werly broke away from the kiss and looked up at the top of Art’s head, where the usually small sceptre was opening into the shape of a crown, welcoming and open.

Art vibrated with pleasure when Merly Werly touched it, and clung to Merly Werly’s sides, thrusting his belly harder and harder against Merly Werly’s. Each movement made the crown at the top of his head open up and drip even more. 

“Do it,” commanded Art, angling the crown down, moving his head to give Merly Werly access. 

Merly Werly nodded, ran his hand through the slick crown, then over his wand, getting it wet. He angled his head, looking into Art’s eyes the whole time and held his wand in place as it slid through Art’s crown. 

Art vibrated on the bed, unable to hold still. Merly Werly moved his wand back and forth through Art’s crown, over and over. They clung to each other as the pleasure built. 

Art seemed to be getting close to release, body shaking, he held onto Merly Werly, tight. Merly Werly sped up and pushed harder and more until Art’s body went rigid, then stilled, Lotty custard leaking from his crown. 

Merly Werly only pushed his wand through a couple more times before Lotty custard spilled from him too. 

_Ew, Merly Werly and Art made a mess. Clean it--_

“Shut up,” said Art. 

_The End_

* * *

**7**  
Warning: A bit of a dubcon/underage vibe, though both characters are adults. Half-sibling incest  
Fusion: Narnia

She'd only meant to follow Merlin for a bit, since she didn't like him skulking around in her wardrobe and every other nook and cranny in the castle. But before she knew it she's lost sight of both him and the way back to the castle. Morgana was a grown woman but, unlike Arthur and Merlin, she hadn't been allowed to explore outside alone since she was a child.

If she'd planned to stay out this long she'd have brought her winter cloak and boots, and some meat pies and perhaps a flask of brandy. She'd have brought Gwen along to carry her things and keep her company, the way Merlin did for Arthur.

Instead she stood in the snow and shivered.

Morgana was greatly relieved to see a fine sledge come along, though surprised not to recognise the lady who drove it. She was tall and powerful, pale and blonde and dressed all in white furs, with a hard set to her handsome face.

"Lady Morgana," she called, "you must be freezing. Why don't you come and have a drink with me?"

"Do I know you?" Morgana said with a frown, though she didn't hesitate to step up and join her. 

The lady opened her cloak, and her skin underneath it was bare and warm to the touch when Morgana pressed against it. 

"My name is Morgause." 

The name meant nothing to Morgana, who was happy to sip from the cup Morgause offered her – something foamy and sweet that she couldn't name but that filled her with a sense of warmth and home. 

"In Camelot there are those who hate me, who would call me a witch and spread nasty rumours about me and my people. I am glad to see they've not poisoned your mind against me. Will you have something to eat as well?"

"Yes, please."

Morgause opened a box full of sweets, each square a different pale coloured gel dusted in white sugar and, Morgana soon found, each one with a different flavour. At first she thought she'd only have one or two, but each piece she tried was more delicious than the last, and she was curious to taste every one.

Morgause smiled indulgently, handed over the box, and put her arm around Morgana's shoulder. Then her other hand reached under Morgana's skirt to trace up the inside of her thigh. Morgana was surprised, for none of the suitors Uther approved nor any of her servants or friends had ever touched her there. It was different from touching herself – unpredictable, almost ticklish, but she didn't feel like laughing. Nervous, she squirmed, but she breathed deep and let her legs fall open a little to make room.

"You are my people as well. You know that, don't you, dear? We're sisters, of a kind."

"Yes," said Morgana, not sure what that meant yet, but very sure it was true.

When the box was empty Morgause kissed her on the mouth while her fingers went on climbing, slowly scissoring up and inside her, filling her core with heat. _More,_ she thought, wishing she could spread herself open, take her whole hand, that she could go on drinking and eating Morgause's gifts, and at the same time wishing this kiss would never end.

"I know," Morgause whispered when she finally drew away. "But it's not time yet. You live in the castle, yes? With Prince Arthur and the King?"

Morgana nodded. "I am the King's ward."

"Then I have a very important task for you. Once it's done you can have all the sweets and all the kisses you desire. And the two of us shall be queens together. That is what you want, isn't it, Morgana?"

*

Later, Morgana would lap and suck at the witch queen's sex while Morgause pulled her hair and laughed, "Hungry for it, aren't you?" Later she would know the poverty of exile and the sting of Morgause's whip on her back. She would kneel and beg for forgiveness from Morgause and Arthur both, not sure which she loved or hated more, and she would never be free of the bitterness of defeat.

But as she walked back to the castle that night, with the light snow falling on her hair and her borrowed cloak, Morgana pictured the powdered sugar on the sweets she would eat the next time she saw Morgause; she could already feel the magic taking root inside her and taste the heady heat of rebellion on her tongue.

* * *

**8**  
Warnings: Microphilia/Macrophilia

Fusion: _The Borrowers_ by Mary Norton

 

When Arthur was woken up by the feeling of tiny feet on his stomach, his first reaction, before he was properly awake, was to squirm frantically. It wasn’t until a little voice yelled,

“Hey, watch it!”

That he realised who was in his bed and equally frantically stilled himself. “Merlin?” He gingerly pushed himself up on his elbows. “That you? What the hell are you _doing_?”

Merlin’s response was too quiet for him to hear. Arthur reached over – very carefully, so as not to send Merlin flying to the floor – and turned on the bedside lamp. Merlin was, best as he could tell in the dim light, barefoot, and dressed in what was probably his own pyjamas. Not an ordinary borrowing expedition, then.

“You almost threw me off!” Merlin was kneeling now, gripping the skin of Arthur’s stomach with both tiny hands. 

“You were crawling around on my stomach! While I was asleep!” Arthur blinked, still not quite awake. “What are you doing here?”

“I dunno. It was hot. I couldn’t sleep.” Merlin relaxed his pinching grip and settled down amidst Arthur’s happy trail. “Wanted to talk.”

Arthur has long since come to terms that he will never get used to talking to a five-inch-tall man. It’s just too strange. Merlin is fascinatingly tiny, an intricate, miniscule miracle, and yet at the same time he was just as awkward and ordinary and _human_ as anyone else.

Now he was toying with the wispy blond hairs on Arthur’s stomach, looking completely at home, and Arthur can’t say he’d never thought about this, about having Merlin on his body. Oh, he’d thought about it. He honestly wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming right now. 

“What d’you want to talk about?” 

“I dunno.” Merlin shifted about, steadying himself against Arthur’s trembling.

“Can I pick you up?” Arthur blurted out.

“If you like.” Merlin clambered up onto Arthur’s hand eagerly – not at all like the first time, when he’d been so reluctant. Arthur remembered how he’d been struck by a sudden childish desire to play with Merlin like a doll.

“I was thinking about you, that’s all,” said Merlin as he settled himself on Arthur’s hand. “I couldn’t sleep, and I was thinking about you.”

Arthur nudged him with the tip of his thumb, and Merlin didn’t protest, so he nudged a little more, up against Merlin’s side. His fingers looked so huge and clumsy next to Merlin’s delicate body, but he wanted to touch so badly.

“D’you remember the first time I let you look at me?”

“Of course I do,” he said. How could he forget that?

“It was weird,” said Merlin, “I knew I shouldn’t be letting you see me, and I was scared, but – I liked it. I liked the way you looked at me. Still do.”

Arthur was starting to get hard now. Merlin glanced over his shoulder.

“Why’d you always look at me like that?” Arthur was stroking him now, running his thumb along Merlin’s chest, gentle, and Merlin didn’t complain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur lied.

“Yeah, you do.” Merlin was smiling now – or Arthur thought he was, it was hard to get a proper look at his face. He shivered, pushed Arthur’s thumb away, and began to strip off his tiny shirt. His skin underneath was so soft and he hissed when Arthur touched him again. “Be careful?”

Arthur could break him so easily and they both know it. 

Merlin braced his hands against Arthur’s palm and pushed up, and suddenly Arthur was touching his crotch, his tiny prick, and any questions he may have had about Borrower anatomy were answered. He didn’t dare move. He couldn’t believe Merlin was letting Arthur touch him like this. Merlin must trust him more than he let on.

He let Merlin do the work instead, pushing himself up against Arthur’s fingers, letting out noises so soft and quiet that Arthur could barely make them out. His palm was sweating.

“Look at me.” Merlin’s head fell back. 

“Yeah,” said Arthur, voice hoarse, and Merlin came, tiny body seizing up in Merlin’s palm, and _god_ this was really happening, Arthur felt a little light headed. He was aching hard.

Merlin slumped back against Arthur’s hand with a satisfied moan. It took Arthur a while to find his voice.

“So you wanted to _talk_ , then?” 

“Uh huh,” said Merlin. Arthur closed his hand around Merlin’s prone body a little, and Merlin seemed to like that, seemed to like being held.

* * *

**9**  
Crossover with [Rocknrolla](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RocknRolla)

'It's no life, pining after a straight bloke,' said Handsome Bob the first time he met Merlin, having a smoke and watching a game of poker. 

'Yeah? And who gives a fuck what you think?' Merlin said, friendly-like. Bob, not that Merlin knew his name at that point, grinned at him and sat down uninvited. 'Takes one to know one, anyway,' Merlin added, eyeing Bob and where his eyes kept flicking to at the poker table, and using a touch of his power. 

Bob didn't deny it. 

Arthur comes to the Speeler to play poker with Mumbles, One Two, and the rest of the Wild Bunch, and Merlin comes to keep him out of trouble. This lifetime round, Arthur's oblivious; tough and gorgeous, the heir to his father's dirty dealings, and he doesn't remember a damn thing. And he's straight. Merlin, as far as he knows, is just his best mate. 

Handsome Bob is a member of the Wild Bunch, and One Two happens to be Handsome Bob's best mate. Oh yes. Like that. So maybe Merlin and Bob have one or two things in common.

It doesn't take them long to start fucking in the bogs, because Merlin's resigned to waiting and Bob's done with it. So why the fuck not?

Bob's a good lay, too. He took all of five minutes to figure Merlin out, the first time, and then turned him around to brace against the wall, and gave him the fingering of his life. Neither of them had been expecting it, so no condoms, no lube, but Bob'd used spit and gentleness, and Merlin had arched his back and taken what he was given, because _fuck_ , yeah, more of that.

He'd then blown Bob to the point of incoherence. Job well done.

This time though, they've got supplies and time.

'You gonna make me feel it?' Merlin demands, shoving his arse out and leaning against the wall as per spec. 'Make it worth my while, yeah?'

'Fuck you,' says Bob amiably, swatting Merlin's arse before shoving his trousers down. 'I'm always worth your while.'

'So do fuck me, then, while I'm still awake,' Merlin returns, fake-yawning over the gasp that comes from Bob spreading him open. 'You -'

'Nah, babe, shhh,' says Bob, and the clinking behind Merlin suggests that Bob's getting rid of his trousers. His fingers come back slick. 'Let a man work, yeah?'

Merlin's happy to. Fucking yes, very happy to.

The fingering isn't as thorough this time, but Bob's cock is thick and slick and the stretch as he nudges in is just what Merlin wants. Bob tucks his palm around one of Merlin's hipbones, fingers digging in, and his other hand he braces on the wall beside Merlin's head. 'Now,' says Bob when he's deep in, deep as he can be, and Merlin's legs are bracing as wide as he can get them. 'Are you gonna be a good lad for me?' He shunts into Merlin when he says it, and Merlin can't help the _'unnnnh'_ noise he makes.

'Fuck, yes,' he breathes, desire to be contrary already gone. 'Give it to me.'

Bob does, good and hard. He drags himself out and drives himself back in, and he nails Merlin's prostate and grins against his shoulder when Merlin whines and scrabbles against the wall, shoving so that he can support himself on one hand and reach the other down to his cock. 

'Oh no,' says Bob. 'Can't have you doing that, babe,' and the hand on Merlin's hip grabs his hand and forces it flat against his stomach. 'Keep it there instead,' Bob says, pressing down and thrusting himself back in again, and Merlin feels it good and proper, inside and out.

'Fuck, fuck, oh _fuck_ …' he gasps, and comes all over himself and over Bob's hand.

'Christ,' says Bob faintly, the plush shape of his mouth and the bite of his teeth raw against Merlin's shoulder, and he comes too, just as quiet. Stealthy, the pair of them. 

*** 

'It's no life, pining after a straight bloke,' Bob says to Merlin again when they're cleaning up.

'It'll do, though, for now,' says Merlin, shrugging. Bob grins at him. He knows.

* * *

**10**  
 **Fusion - Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett**

It wasn't that they were friends. Angels weren't _friends_ with demons. He'd tried to maintain a respectable hostility, but. They were both the longest-serving agents of their respective kinds on earth. As generation after generation of humans sparked, bright, and faded out, Merlin remained the one familiar face. One...grew accustomed. 

So he noticed straight away that something was different. Merlin's ever-present sunglasses hid his telltale yellow eyes, and normally looked awkwardly out of place. Tonight, they somehow looked... _cool_. Merlin's cheekbones looked particularly wicked in this light, suddenly, though they'd frequented the Ritz and sat under these same lights for twenty years now. 

"No. No, no, no. You're _smoldering_. At _me_."

"I'll be fired, Arthur! Don't make me go back down there. I _like_ earth. Tempting an angel would more than fill my quota."

Arthur's throat felt dry. "An angel can't be tempted." 

"So you'll be fine!" Merlin said, like that made sense. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of it. I have," Merlin said. That was new information. 

Arthur licked his parched lips. He took another sip of wine. "Lust is a sin."

"And greed?" Merlin asked. "I know you're keeping an eye on that Assyrian sword in Belfast."

"That man doesn't deserve to call himself a collector, with the state he's keeping it in!" 

Merlin put his hand atop Arthur's. Arthur took another hasty gulp of wine. 

"Envy. Wrath," said Merlin, and grinned. He'd always had a particularly guileless grin for someone with his job description. Perhaps that was what made him effective as the adversary. Arthur pulled his hand from beneath Merlin's and put it uselessly, upon his fork. He'd finished his dessert. 

"Gluttony," Merlin said, taking a bite from his own half-finished chocolate cake. Normally he let Arthur sample the other half without comment, and he could hardly do that _now_ , could he? "And don't get me started on pride. Not with you, _angel_."

Arthur flushed. Mm. "That does look nice on you," Merlin said. 

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"Arthur. Please. I could tempt, Hell, any number of them," he said, sweeping his arm at the bright, temporary humans around them. "But I'd rather--we're--" 

Arthur found himself leaning forward, needing the end of that thought, but Merlin saw, and now he flushed and cleared his throat. "Never mind. This was stupid. I just thought, you know, no harm in trying, right?"

Arthur wasn't so sure. In fact, the harm might be quite serious, he realized as he watched Merlin's face growing even pinker, Merlin pulling off his sunglasses, the dark sweep of his eyelashes as he buffed the glasses with a napkin, and then Arthur was saying, "My place, then." 

Merlin's head shot up, his eyes searching, then said, "I'll drive." 

Yes. Definitely lasting damage. Permanent, even.

"Oh, G-...oh, oh, dear," Arthur managed to not-quite gasp. Though perhaps dignity was out the window at this point. His cock was curving into Merlin's hands, leaking from the tip until Merlin, unbelievably, dipped down and licked it away with one swipe. 

"Please." If this was what most humans felt like all the time, it was no wonder they were all so...the way they were.

Merlin pushed him onto his back and slithered to Arthur's waist. He shot one long, golden look at Arthur. It felt terribly frank, without the sunglasses, with Merlin in his bed after millennia of waiting.

"Merlin," he breathed, and then Merlin dropped his gaze and swallowed Arthur down.

 

Arthur didn't have much cause for sleep. Merlin indulged often, and was now breathing slowly, one arm draped hot and a little crushingly across Arthur's ribs, his cock nestled between Arthur's buttocks.

He closed his eyes, expecting long dragging awareness before sleep took him, and instead opened them again to find it was now morning. 

"I could, er. My plants at my apartment need watering," Merlin said. Arthur sighed, turning over. He gave Merlin the sternest look he could muster with Merlin's hair sticking up like that and pillow creases on his cheek. Merlin grinned, finally. It was possible Arthur had been purposefully using stern looks to elicit that grin for longer than himself had been strictly aware of.

"Or I could go make us some coffee," Merlin said.

"Let's stay. Just for a bit," he murmured, and rolled onto Merlin to keep him there. If his cock nudged against Merlin's, just there, it was purely coincidence.

"Sloth," Merlin said, and kissed him hard.

* * *

**11**  
Fusion: Teen Wolf 

Merlin tripped, his foot catching in a branch and only his enhanced reflexes kept him from face planting in the dirt of the forest floor. Instead he caught himself, rocks and twigs cutting into his hands. Claws dug into his arm as he was pulled to his feet and crushed to another man’s chest.

“Be still.” a harsh voice whispered in his ear and a bullet shattered a tree only a few feet away as he was pulled back into the shadows.

Hunters shouted to each other and the body behind him was tensed. The hunters started moving in the opposite direction from where they were hiding and Merlin felt the same relief as the man holding tightly to him. 

Merlin was shoved away and into a nearby tree, Arthur’s eyes flashing red as he glared at him “What we’re you thinking leaving so soon after the full moon. I told you there were in the area.”

“I didn’t think they’d be so close.” Merlin shouted back, refusing to back down as relief and terror warred within him. He’s been running for what had felt like hours, his heart in his throat and the memory of bullets burning in his skin from the last time he had encountered hunters. He knew one of them, he remembered the smell, his voice. They would have given up on the chase if Uther hadn’t been the one leading them. Arthur had told them to stay until he’d gotten back. Merlin just had never been good at listening to him, even if he was the Alpha. 

“That’s your problem Merlin.” Arthur boxed him against a tree, his voice low “You never think, you never listen. If I tell you something you follow.” Arthur’s hand moved over his throat, claws digging into his skin as he whispered in his ear “I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

Merlin closed his eyes and breathed out, relaxing and tilting his neck to the side, baring it to Arthur. “I know, I’m sorry,” and he was. He remembered what hunters had done to Freya, to Will, to so many of their pack. They were always on the move, always trying to find somewhere safe to rest. Merlin knew Arthur must have smelled him too, always dogging their steps, determined to kill the son that had turned into a monster and the pack he had built. 

Arthur breathed out, the red bleeding out of his eyes back to their usual blue and he pressed his forehead to Merlin’s, his hand cupping the back of his neck. “If I lost you…” he breathed unable to finish the sentence.

“You won’t.” Merlin reassured him.

Arthur kissed him, lips biting at his and Merlin trembled. They didn’t have time for more, the others would worry. So they kissed, pressed tightly to each other. They would have time later, after they had moved the pack again. They would find another home and Arthur would be able to take his time, open him open, and fuck him where the entire pack could hear. He would re stake his claim on Merlin’s body again, inside and out.

One day they would stop running. Because Merlin was tired and it was only a matter of time before Uther and his hunters caught up to them. When Arthur had become the Alpha they had only been teenagers, newly turned and scared. Uther had burned through Merlin’s skin trying to kill him and Arthur had barely saved him in time. He hadn’t gotten there in time to save Will and Freya. 

It didn’t matter to Uther that they had been turned against their will, it didn’t matter to him that Arthur had used the skills he’d been taught by his father to kill the Alpha that had turned him. He wanted them dead and they had ran. 

They hadn’t stopped running, and had gathered other strays as they did. Their pack was growing and soon Arthur would stop running and kill his father. Morgana had told him and the closer the time came the more Merlin was ready.

* * *

**12**  
Warnings: non-sexual temporary genderswap

Fusion: Inception

Arthur stood in front of a floor length mirror, staring and growing more depressed by the minute at the sight of his own face staring back. Merlin bragged that he had mastered his first Forge in under ten minutes, dream time. It had been almost thirty now.

Arthur frowned at his stubbornly Arthurian reflection. What was he doing wrong?

“Oh Arthur, don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

Arthur’s eyes snapped up to the other reflection in the mirror. The woman behind him looked like she could be related to Morgana, with higher cheekbones and mirthful blue eyes. It was a Forge Arthur had seen before.

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur tried to turn his attention back to his own work, but it was hard when the Forger walked forward and plastered his feminine form against Arthur’s back. “Who are you trying to become?” Merlin’s voice slipped back down into his normal range, and behind Arthur’s back he suddenly felt Merlin’s flat chest, but the image of the female Merlin still smirked at him from the mirror. It was disconcerting.

“Gwaine.” Arthur had chosen the other man because despite various aesthetic differences they were of a similar build. He figured it would be a good idea to start with something simple.

Unfortunately, it seemed Merlin didn’t agree. He clicked his tongue. “Oh Arthur, that won’t work at all. It’s got to be someone you know well. Someone you’ve studied enough to know their every tic and scar and eyelash.” Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist from behind. “Try me.”

“Uh…” Arthur fidgeted. “Won’t that be difficult? And weird?”

“Not at all.” There was another shift against Arthur’s back, and when he looked up at Merlin’s reflection again he saw a pair of his own eyes looking back, but with Merlin’s smirk bubbling underneath.

“Yeah, that’s really odd.”

“Oh, not so much.” Merlin reached around with Arthur’s hand, which was strange, and slid it up under Arthur’s shirt. Arthur’s eyes were glued on the mirror. “Actually, I think the word you’re looking for is _hot_. Ridiculously so.”

Arthur had to admit Merlin had a point, narcissistic sounding as it was. The hunger in his own eyes directed at him had Arthur hard in a second.

“You know what the best thing about dreams is?” Merlin asked, in Arthur’s voice. Arthur shook his head, both to answer and to show that was going a step too far. Merlin switched back to his own voice. “The best thing is that I don’t even have to prepare you in a dream. I can fuck right into you with your own thick dick and you can feel every inch of what you always do to me.”

Arthur couldn’t help his pants of excitement as Merlin stripped him with a thought and pressed him up against the mirror. “You know what? I’ll make you a bet.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now.” Merlin gave Arthur a nip on the shoulder. “If you can forge me, now, I’ll let you tie me to the bed again tonight.”

“You’re on,” Arthur replied at once.

Merlin chuckled. “You are too predictable, Arthur. That’s why you’re so easy to forge, you know? I know exactly what you’ll do in every situation. Even this one.” Arthur’s eyes widened as his own cock slid into his body.

“ _Fuck_!”

“Good, isn’t it?” Merlin slowly pressed his hips forward until they were against Arthur’s arse. “This is what you do to make me scream.”

Arthur was lost for words as Merlin began to snap his hips forward in a vicious rhythm. It took a few minutes for him to regain his bearings enough to focus on his challenge.

 _Think about Merlin,_ he chanted to himself. Arthur closed his eyes, and instead of trying to block out the burning weight of his own cock he imagined the way it looked sliding in and out of Merlin when they were tangled together in a sweaty heap. He forced his mind to put himself in Merlin’s place instead of his own this time. With the outside stimulation, it wasn’t too hard.

Slowly, so slowly, he could feel something twist inside of him, and then, with a pop…

“That’s it! You’ve done it!”

Arthur’s eyes flew open, but in the mirror he met not his own eyes, but Merlin’s.

“Come for me,” Merlin whispered, but in the reflection it was himself who had whispered it to Merlin, and Merlin’s reflection came all over the mirror.

* * *

**13**  
Cross-over: X-Men

“I met this bloke today,” Merlin says, walking into their flat and dropping his bag on the floor unceremoniously.

Arthur gives him a dark look from the armchair.

“Oh, come off it. I don't mean like _that_. He was just really interesting. We bonded over being British.”

“You fake your accent,” Arthur scowls.

“I don't fake it. I choose it. I'm proficient in many accents.”

“Okay, so you bonded over being fake-British.”

“Well, I heard him talking to the barista who'd made his coffee. I looked over and then we kind of made eye contact and-”

“This still sounds like a chick flick.”

“Shut up. We made eye contact and he almost spat out his drink all over everything and started coughing and went all red. Then he wheeled over to me all excited and called me _Merlin_ of all things – like anyone has actually used that name for a few centuries – and started getting all politely excited.”

“This guy sounds like a nut. Also, _I_ call you Merlin.”

“Yes, I know, darling. But no one else does. Anyway, he finally introduced himself and what do you know? He's that famous telepath that's been on the telly lately talking about mutant rights. He was surprised because he'd read my mind and realized I was the _real_ Merlin who knew the _real_ King Arthur.”

“Let me guess: you had lunch and went all goo-goo, ga-ga at each other and discussed magic and science and stuff.”

“I might choose a more eloquent description for it. But... mostly, yeah.” 

Merlin huffs slightly in annoyance, but drapes himself sideways across Arthur's lap in any case, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair.

“Did he think your magic was a mutation?”

“Yes. I told him it wasn't.”

“You've had it for thousands of years. You came first.”

“This isn't some chicken and egg battle, Arthur. He's never seen magic before and he's a scientist, you know. So he was certain it's some kind of crazy mutation where I can alter the fabric of space-time or something. But really, with all the faeries, dragons, trolls, and absolutely ridiculous stuff we've seen, I'm much more inclined to believe it's magic. He asked to meet again and get a blood sample so he could-”

Merlin talks too much sometimes, most of the time, really, but the words taste sweet in Arthur's mouth when he interrupts them with lips and tongue and sometimes fingers if he feels like it. Merlin's words dissolve into delicious mouthfuls of noise instead.

Sometimes, when Arthur pulls away for breath, Merlin has stopped and a flush has risen on his cheeks and tinted his ears red. Sometimes, Merlin just keeps going where he left off and Arthur is forced to repeat the process as many times as it takes until Merlin shuts up.

“Magic and science go hand in hand sometimes, I'm not saying they don't. But my magic isn't anything like their mutations-”

So Arthur interrupts him again, slides his tongue past Merlin's lovely lips and licks the words from every crevice of his mouth. He nudges and tugs at Merlin until he shifts, sitting up to straddle Arthur instead, and not once does Arthur allow their mouths to part for more than a moment.

He slides warm fingertips under the hem of Merlin's t-shirt and fits hands around the curve of his hips and waist. He presses thumbs into the little indentations and smiles against Merlin's mouth at the way his hands fit just so. He's done this a hundred, a thousand times before, but it's one of those things he'll never get tired of no mater how many times he does it.

Loving Merlin is a process that takes lifetimes to perfect. But it's okay because Arthur has lifetimes to spare and there is perhaps nothing he wants so much as to succeed in loving Merlin perfectly in every way. There are other things he wants, things that ebb and flow with each passing century, with each reawakening into himself, but Merlin has always been that one constant thing.

Arthur nudges Merlin up a little and Merlin obliges as Arthur wiggles out of his trousers and underwear. Then Merlin settles back down in his lap snugly and starts rocking his hips, making them both groan.

Between one slow thrust and the next, Merlin's clothing is gone, likely magicked away. Whether it's mutation or magic or the power of the Earth and all the realms beyond, Merlin has always had that devious streak that uses his magic for nefarious ends and there is never a moment when Arthur isn't secretly pleased about it.

* * *

**14**  
 **Crossover: The Avengers**

**Tag Team**

A sly elbow-nudge to the ribs and Arthur looks from the TV to Merlin, who grins like an imp and silently mouths: _Watch this._

Merlin leans forward with his elbows on spread knees, a longneck dangling loosely from his fingers. He stretches and yawns with an outrageous little mewl, all lean, long and sinewy, and at the other end of the couch, Steve stiffens.

When Merlin takes a long, lazy pull of beer, Steve’s eyes follow the shape of Merlin’s mouth around the longneck’s lip.

Holy snapping duckshit. Merlin’s gaydar was right.

Merlin grins, and nudges Arthur with his knee. _Want to?_

Out of Steve’s line of sight, Arthur gently rubs the seam along Merlin’s jeans, up and down with his finger.

Arthur clears his throat. “So, how’s it going with Tony?”

Steve looks like he’s choking on his own spit, coughs uncontrollably for a minute and sits up really, really straight. “What do you--?”

“Nothing. It’s just. Well.” Arthur pauses for maximum effect. “Forget I said anything.” He pretends to be immersed in the footie game they’re watching, waiting for the inside of Steve’s head to start eating itself.

He palms Merlin’s thigh, digging in a little with his fingertips. It smacks of _having_ and Arthur can almost feel the heat from Steve’s eyeballs like a trail of burning rubber revved on the back of his hand.

Steve shunts forward until he’s on the edge of the seat. “All right. What about Tony?”

Arthur shrugs. “You fucking yet?”

Merlin breaks out the biggest shit-eating grin when Steve, Captain Motherfucking America, erupts into a flurry of panicky giggles.

“What? No! What?” he squeals the way a man of his stature never should.

“It’s understandable,” Arthur continues. “Must be hard getting back in the swing.”

Steve’s nervous giggling stops abruptly. “There was never a swing.”

Merlin hums. “Well. We _could_ talk about how Tony hasn’t had a chance to corrupt you. Yet,” he says, sliding off the couch onto his knees and shuffling to kneel between Steve’s feet. He grins wolfishly. “ _Or_ , we could go straight to the part where I suck your cock harder than a vampire hooker while Arthur watches. What do you say?”

Arthur thinks if Steve nodded any more violently, his head would fall off.

~*~*~

Contrary to his promise, Merlin doesn’t suck hard, not at the start, anyway. With Arthur alongside them on the couch, Merlin goes about Steve like he’s a gourmet meal.

He spreads him out, holding his big thighs apart with a firm grip, and Steve’s eyes are like saucers. He has a fantastic cock; Merlin thinks so too, if the _It’s Fucking Christmas!_ written on his face is any indication. Looking at Arthur with huge eyes, he waves a game-show flourish over it and says, “Merlin Emrys, come on down!” Arthur laughs, Steve reaches for his pants but Merlin slaps his hands away, diving face-first into his crotch. Arthur knows Steve doesn’t stand a chance against Merlin’s cocksucking lips once they’ve acquired their target.

Merlin teases first, kissing and kitten-licking Steve’s thighs. He doesn’t go anywhere near Steve’s rapidly filling cock, just nuzzles into his sac and licks all around it, worrying it with open-mouth kisses until Steve’s head thunks backward into the couch with a groan that’s bordering on pain.

Merlin mouths Steve’s balls and flicks his tongue all along the seam, alternating between teasing and long slides of his tongue that have Arthur squirming, too. By the time Merlin’s mouth actually descends on Steve’s cock, all three of them are breathless and wound-up. Merlin takes him down wet and so fucking slow, and Steve moans like he’s dying.

Arthur loves the way Merlin sucks cock, cradling and laving the underside with his tongue while working a hot suck over all he can fit in his mouth. Watching Steve get the treatment makes him feel heavy and swollen all over, thick with lust.

Steve’s eyes roll back, so Arthur hikes up Steve’s t-shirt and fingers Steve’s nipples into hard kernels. And _fuck_ , that might be Steve’s big dick filling Merlin’s mouth, but it’s _Arthur_ Merlin’s eyes are pinned to. It’s _Arthur_ he’s watching when he finally brings Steve off with his hand, come splattering all over his mouth, dripping off his chin.

“His mouth’s made for sucking dick, isn’t it? Not only does it shut him up, but finally, _something_ he’s good at,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing Merlin’s grinning, filthy face. Steve groans incoherently.

“Your turn?” Merlin says, and it’s all Arthur can do not to leap over Steve like he’s a hurdle.

* * *

**15**  
Fusion: Escaflowne

Merlin wakes with a splitting headache. Why the magic beam of blue light can’t set him down softly, he’ll never understand. Slowly, he cracks an eye open and smiles at the man sitting beside him.

“Arthur,” he whispers. He sits up and reaches for him, afraid this may be a dream.

“Merlin.” Arthur says as he leans down and nuzzles into him, arms wrapping around his waist. “I’ve missed you.”

He pulls back and kisses Arthur firmly on the mouth, grabbing his shoulders and tugging him in close. He’s waited three years to do this, always regretting he hadn’t kissed him goodbye in the first place. Apparently Arthur feels the same, because there’s no hesitation as he pushes him down into the bed and crawls up his body. He’s hovering just above Merlin, body heat surrounding him, warming him to his core.

“Why did you call for me? Is everything ok on your Earth?” Arthur murmurs into his collarbone before suckling on the skin there.

“Everything’s fine. I couldn’t stay away any longer. I belong with you here on Gaea.” Merlin replies, head swimming with need and want as Arthur drags a hand up his side and underneath his shirt.

“You know I’m King.” The seriousness that slips into Arthur’s tone makes him pause. Maybe he’d been wrong to presume Arthur would wait for him. Maybe he had a Queen now. The thought physically hurts and makes his chest vibrate with pain and jealousy. 

“I know.” Merlin says softly as he pulls Arthur’s red shirt up and over his head. His heart constricts and burns with happiness as he sees his own pendant hanging around Arthur’s neck.

He’s silent as he slowly maps the plains of his chest. He looks different now; he’s grown into a man with broad shoulders and defined muscles. His skin is sun kissed and leathery to the touch; no doubt from long hours spent rebuilding Fanelia.

“If you stay by my side, it will be complicated. The council is already angry enough I have yet to take a wife.” Arthur says, eyes worried, but full of hope.

Merlin smiles and wraps his arms around the King’s neck. “I’m the seer from the Mystic Moon. I have to have some credibility around here.”

The answering grin is beautiful and breathtaking, and when they kiss it feels like Merlin is finally home. Arthur moans into his mouth and greedily runs his fingers through his hair, over his face and down his sides to his hips. Each touch is a bolt of electricity zipping through his body, leaving him raw around the edges.

He reaches between them and unties Arthur’s laces, pulling his pants down with shaking hands. “Fuck me.” Merlin whines into the divot of Arthur’s shoulder, grinding his hips up to meet his Kings.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Arthur says reverently before kissing his forehead, then his temple, cheek, and finally his lips. “Promise me you’re staying.”

“I promise.” He answers and cups Arthur’s cheek with his hand, attempting to reassure him. 

His King strips them down and prepares him slowly with one, then two, generously slick fingers. He’s never been touched before and the sensations are foreign and slightly painful, but oh so good. The air is thick with the scent of precome and sweat and Merlin can’t ever remember feeling so out of his mind with happiness.

He watches as Arthur slicks his cock and lines himself up at his entrance. Merlin grips his biceps and locks eyes with him as he slowly, carefully, pushes inside. It burns and hurts, but Arthur takes his time and pauses once he’s fully seated, allowing him to adjust.

He feels full and complete and doesn’t think it can get any better until Arthur shudders and his wings burst from his back.

_Oh._

He had forgotten how gorgeous they are. Tentatively, he reaches out and runs his hand along the soft white feathers. “You’re beautiful.” Merlin says, knowing it’s a gift he gets to see them, knowing how his wings brings up painful memories of his lost mother and the shame of being a Draconian.

Arthur sighs at the touch and dips his head down to rest on his shoulder. They writhe together, giving and taking what they need until Merlin can’t hold it in any longer and comes in hot spurts over their stomachs. Arthur is not far behind, and finishes with a shout.

Just as he’s falling asleep, he hears Arthur whisper, “welcome home.”

* * *

**16**  
Warnings: this is like Tolkien sacrilege I’m sure (other than that, IDEK where this came from)  
Fusion: Lord of the Rings

“Why am I not surprised you’re here? It only figures Balinor would send his best and brightest dragonrider. Of course it helps that you happen to be his son and heir, doesn’t it, _Mer_ lin?”

Merlin let out a small sigh. “Hello, Arthur.”

Arthur was leaning back against the pedestal that held the broken pieces of his ancestor’s sword. Excalibur. The very sword that cut the Ring from the hand of Sauron. The same sword that would be Arthur’s; were he to acknowledge his birthright. 

Decades ago, Merlin had tried to convince him to have it mended, to take it up and claim his rightful place as King of Gondor. They could have ruled together; Man and Elf. But Arthur would have none of it. He fled and became a ranger of the West, a wanderer. And Merlin stayed to fulfill his role as heir to King Balinor, as a dragonrider, and as the pride of Mirkwood.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he stared down the elf. He sniffed disdainfully and looked away. “I really shouldn’t be surprised. Balinor sends his son to ‘watch over’ the Ring of Power, when really he just wants it for himself. And you, like a good little son, race to do his bidding. You disappoint me, Merlin.”

“And you believe so little of me,” It wasn’t a question. “You’ve changed, Arthur.”

At that, Arthur’s head whipped back around. “Of course I’ve changed, Merlin. I’m not who I used to be. I’m not the same boy who was in love with you all those years ago. Everything is different now, isn’t it?”

And that made Merlin let out a mirthless laugh. “So I have heard. How is dear Gwen by the way? Asked for her hand yet?”

Arthur sneered, and then suddenly he was across the room and within centimeters of Merlin’s face. Ignoring Merlin’s slight inhale he grabbed the elf’s arms. “Do not speak, of what you do not know about,” he bit out.

His face wiped of its smile, Merlin could only blink at the intense blue gaze that was so close to his face. Both man and elf were breathing heavily, the warmth of it ghosting between them and over each others’ lips. Merlin swallowed thickly.

“Arthur, I –”

A pair of lips crashing roughly to his made him cut short. Merlin let out a small keening sound. Hands grappled and tunics tugged aside and then completely off. Merlin’s back slammed into the stone wall as Arthur attacked his neck with hungry kisses, and he could do nothing but moan and squirm at the biting feeling of the ranger’s teeth on his delicate skin.

Arthur’s hands were slowly making their way down Merlin’s sides, blunt nails digging in and leaving red trails. Merlin hissed clutching at Arthur’s broad shoulders. 

“Arthur, Arthur wait. Wait,” Merlin babbled uselessly, even as his own hips stuttered forward, straining to feel Arthur’s hardness against his own. “Arthur. What about – What about Gwen?” 

Instead of ceasing his movements as Merlin thought he would have, his words only seemed to urge Arthur on more. His hand buried into Merlin’s trousers and wrapped around his throbbing cock, giving a firm stroke that had Merlin groaning loudly. Arthur bit harshly into Merlin’s neck before lifting his head to speak into Merlin’s pointed ear.

“Oh Merlin. You know I never cared for her. Not like I did for you. Like I _do_ for you.”

A whimper tore itself from Merlin’s throat. He could vaguely feel Arthur’s smile against his ear lobe, but all that was forgotten as the hand on his cock started tugging and squeezing and then there was a mouth on his neck again and all the sensations were too much, too much. And with a last gasping, drawn out sob, Merlin was spilling hot and wet over Arthur’s hand and slumping loosely between his chest and the wall.

There was a beat of silence after, only their heavy breathing between them. Merlin vaguely registered the wet patch across Arthur’s groin. Merlin’s voice, when he finally spoke, was a whisper. His head hung in embarrassment and a little bit of self-pity. “We should go. The Council will be meeting soon.”

Two fingers lifted his chin, which he reluctantly obeyed. He found himself under the intense blue gaze once again.

“I meant it Merlin. No matter what happens. Whatever this business with the Ring, or Mordor, or any of it. I will _always_ love you. That I promise.”

And, finally, Merlin believed him.

* * *

**17**  
Warnings: some grief over past character death

Fusion: [the Diadem series](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diadem_\(book_series\))

+++

He fucks his way across the Outer Rim.

On Ordin, he hides in a castle keep and fumbles in dark corners with a man whose face he can't see. He slips his hand in quick, around the unfamiliarity of the sword belt, and jerks once, twice, other arm tight around the man's shoulders.

"You," the man says, after. He grasps at Merlin's hips and finds denim. "What are you wearing?"

In the dimness, the man might be blonde. Not that it matters.

+++

On Calomir, he lazes in the virtual, remembering the girl he'd lost. He'd seen her at the corner of a forum, dark-haired, mouth a soft, curious twist. He'd said, "Want to get out of here?" and she'd smiled. They'd fucked on a virtual lakeshore, and she'd looked sweet but had scratched up his back like a cat.

He'd sensed the spark in her.

"Want to get out of here?" he'd said in the afterglow, and he hadn't meant between VR settings—he'd meant between planets, between galaxies. He'd wanted to take her inward, ever inward, to the worlds where magic shivered in the air, was tangible on your tongue, made you feel more and more alive until it was too much to bear.

She hadn't made it far.

+++

On Earth he goes to the dirtiest, dingiest bar he can find, but the man he finds there isn't dingy at all. He's bright with life, taking Merlin home and fucking him to a hoarse, aching mess, kissing him like he's something to be savored.

"Stay," the man says into the pillow, hair a silky cascade over his face. "I'll make you breakfast. Pancakes."

Merlin bundles tight under the covers with him, but is gone before dawn.

+++

He likes the eastern sunsets on Ordin. He likes the man in the belowground passages better.

"I looked for you," the man breathes, biting at Merlin's neck, hands everywhere. He's clearly hungry for it so Merlin eases him down, undoes his zip and gifts him his cock. The man pauses, breathing harshly, then takes it into his mouth, whimpering, like he's never done it before. From what Merlin knows of Ordin, he probably hasn't.

The man's mouth is lush, comfortable, and his moans as he touches himself bring Merlin off easily. He's indulgent as the other man licks up his come, tentative—then takes a finger and smears the rest over the man's lips.

"God," the man says, wrecked, and almost sobs as he comes.

They sit for a long time on the stone floor.

"Who are you?" The man holds Merlin's wrist, says, "Please. I want to know you're near."

There is vulnerability in this admission, and Merlin wants to honor it. Instead, he taps the gemstones at his belt and slips the man into peaceful sleep, easing his head carefully onto the stones.

+++

He goes back to Calomir. He wants to remember the girl as she'd been on Dondar, flushed with adventure and magic under a purple sky. Instead he finds the AI the girl's parents have made of their daughter—she's just as sweet as before, but doesn't remember him. He thinks of kissing her anyway, but it feels wrong.

+++

On Earth he broods.

"Penny for your thoughts?" someone says. It's the man with the silky hair, and he's holding out a penny in the palm of his hand.

"How did you find me?" Merlin asks, and takes the penny.

"Magic, sweetheart," the man says, and Merlin can't help but smile. "Come back to mine and I'll cook you those pancakes I promised."

It's a bad idea, but Merlin accepts. The sex is good, slick and satisfying, but somehow the pancakes are better.

"So when will I see you again?" the man asks, bumping his hip against Merlin's.

"I'm a traveler," Merlin says, looking away. "I'm never in one place for too long."

"Even better!" the man says. "I'll come along."

Merlin hesitates.

The man says, "I'm Gwaine," like it's not important.

There's power in a name. Merlin has tried for a long time to avoid them, but maybe—maybe this is something that can't be avoided.

"Alright then, Gwaine," Merlin says, trying out the words on his lips.

Maybe he doesn't have to be alone.

+++

On Ordin, Merlin leaves Gwaine exploring, and finds the man in the underground passage, head in his hands.

"Want to get out of here?" he asks, tentative.

The man looks up, and says, "Yes."

Merlin gives his name.

* * *

**18**  
Fusion: The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal

** The Less Than Epic Adventures of Elyan and Gwaine **

Gwaine likes to sing bawdy songs while they drive, one arm propped on the open window and the other gesturing expansively (and rudely) along with the lyrics. Whether he's still drunk this morning is an open question. His breath smells of honey and hops whenever he turns, his body loose and radiating heat from the passenger seat. Elyan feels his face heat up involuntarily.

He has no idea why Gwaine suggested paying for food and lodging for space in Elyan's old Toyota, but the arrangement has been...interesting. Twice now they've had to remove themselves quickly from a town, hitting the highway fast and hoping Elyan's old beat-up car could outrun anyone who had a mind to follow them. The second time, Elyan had to go to the next town over with Gwaine's money and buy Gwaine some new trousers.

Yet Gwaine's wallet never seems to empty. Another thing Elyan doesn't ask about.

Supposedly they're on their way to meet Gwen in Rome, where she's been working for these past six months. Honestly though, Elyan just wants out of Liverpool, no excuse needed. He doesn't know why Gwaine's running, and he doesn't care to ask - just lets that be question number three that never sees the light of day.

They've taken their sweet time, meandering around, but today they've finally reached the Alps, wandering on Elyan's decent French and Gwaine's rude, mostly sexual words for everyday items. 

Gwaine's singing has become more of a murmur than anything else. The highway wraps around the mountainside like a ribbon, winding up and up and up into the blue sky. It's amazing and something Elyan wonders if he'll ever be in the mood to appreciate properly. But then Gwaine pipes up.

"'M still drunk," he mutters. "Can we stop?"

Elyan should feel annoyed, but all he does is smile.

***

The little hotel is tucked right into the mountainside. Elyan thinks Sherlock Holmes or yodeling, but what he should have thought was "food", because they have about a million different ways of serving dairy and all of them are delicious. Gwaine eats what looks like three or four kilos and wanders upstairs to pass out on the bed. Elyan goes for a walk.

The mountains are bright with summer and freedom and everything Elyan didn't have at home, the air crisp and open. There's still a bit of snow tucked into the pockets of shadow where the sun doesn't shine. Elyan tucks his cold hands in his pockets and doesn't think, _when we get through these mountains_ , because that way lies endings, separations, but also Gwen. He isn't sure what he thinks about that yet.

The thought pulls him back to the hotel, back up to the small, neat room with Gwaine still snoring on the bed. Elyan watches him sleep for a while, then goes down the hall to take a shower.

When he gets back, he doesn't notice at first that Gwaine is watching him from barely opened eyes, but he also doesn't jump when Gwaine slurs, "Not drunk anymore."

It's an invitation. Elyan takes it.

They're soon tangled on the only bed, Elyan relearning the feel of Gwaine's pierced cock, the tattoos on his body. For his part, Gwaine still looks rather shocked that Elyan even wants to touch him, but he arches into it, uncomplicated and joyful at every brush of Elyan's fingers. For his part, Elyan just keeps touching, fascinated by the scars on Gwaine's body but, as always, not asking.

They have time for fingers and tongues, for kissing and for Gwaine to stiffen suddenly in Elyan's arms, eyes rolling back. Later, they'll have time to clean each other up lazily, to go for another walk.

They have time for many things, except questions.

* * *

**19**

Fusion: What Not to Wear

Arthur’s jaw drops when she steps from the shadowed doorway onto the set. Morgana thwacks him in the chest with the back of her hand, her other hand over her heart. “Shut the front door! Who the hell do you think you are?” she demands.

Elena focuses on walking, heel-to-toe, one foot in front of the other. There’s something to this fancy-pants clothing business. She’s about three times more careful not to trip in her stilettos than she’d be in her boots, and is therefore about three times more graceful than the girl they’d first ambushed in the practice ring. In her defense, Elena didn’t always fall into manure when she flubbed a jump and fell off her horse. The camera crew had been a little distracting.

They tug her between them when she makes it within reach, which is nice. Even in her own towering heels, Morgana is a steadying influence. Arthur’s hand is large and sure around her shoulder. Behind the primary camera, the key grip’s blue eyes crinkle. He zooms in, lens blinking at her. A gentle squeeze to her waist brings her back to the present — to the giant picture mirror they’re facing: Arthur on her right in a charcoal suit-jacket with a forest-green pinstripe, Morgana at her left in a fitted sheath the same royal purple as Arthur’s pocket square. Between them, Elena looks like butter in a champagne and gold bandage dress.

“I am honestly speechless,” Arthur says, shaking his head.

“First and last time, I’m sure,” Morgana says, earning herself an eyeroll. “Seriously, Elena, this is stunning. Who would’ve thought the girl with the horse crap in her hair was secretly a princess? Look at this _fit_ ,” she says, sliding her fingers around Elena’s ribcage just beneath her breasts.

“Give us a twirl,” Arthur says, taking her hand and turning her in a graceful circle.

“Look at that tush!” Morgana gleefully frames the visual with her hands mid-spin. “How are you feeling, what are your thoughts?”

Elena tilts her head, considering herself. She’s shorter than Arthur and Morgana, but there really _is_ something to the clothes. It’s like her proportions have shifted, and her self-perception with them. Not in any sort of permanent sense; it feels like she’s stepped into a role for a short while — a princess beside a king and queen. “I feel like a million bucks,” Elena says.

~+++~

“The crew will follow you back home to film your welcome party and personal spots, then everything goes to editing and joins the queue for distribution.”

“Sounds good,” Elena says, accepting the key grip’s clipboard (he appears to be key everything, judging by his innumerable responsibilities).

“Sign here and here,” he says, and she scribbles where he points. He twinkles at her, satisfied, then nods at the doors to the studio. “The bosses want to say goodbye before you go.”

“Oh, thanks,” Elena says, watching him lope off.

Morgana and Arthur are bickering pleasantly on the interview couch and don’t immediately notice her, so she straightens her dress and puts her shoulders back and walks, heel-toe, heel-toe, feet rapping out that tell-tale feminine signature of approach. Morgana smiles around the lip of her wineglass and Arthur’s eyes flick up and sharpen on her, and Elena knows what she wants.

Arthur stands to greet her, which makes it easy for Elena to grab him by the tie and reel him in for a kiss. He freezes, and Morgana’s too poised to do more than gape until Elena sets aside her wine and climbs into her lap.

It takes remarkably little persuasion to get from there to Arthur’s strong hands gripping her ass, the flies of his impeccable slacks biting into her skin as he thrusts, pushing her mouth tighter and messier against Morgana’s cunt.

“Come on, good girl, I’m so close,” Morgana says, plaintive, fingers tangling in blonde hair. Elena’s new, three hundred dollar dress is bunched up around her hips and her face is slick, Gwen’s beautifully applied makeup no doubt smudged and unseemly, and Elena has never felt so sexy. She moans, sucking at Morgana’s clit, relishing the sharp, quavering cry she wins for it.

When she comes, it’s with Arthur’s dick inside her and Morgana’s mouth on her — a rumpled, gorgeous mess.

* * *

**20**  
Warning: medical kink  
Fusion: Stargate SG-1

Arthur sat on the edge of the infirmary bed with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth.

"Ith thith really nethethary?" he mumbled.

"Standard operating procedure, I'm afraid," the man said. He was tall with a shock of dark hair, and his blue eyes held humor in them. "Maybe next time you'll think twice about touching random alien artifacts."

Arthur humphed, then pursed his lips when the doctor snatched it away, absently checking the reading before making a notation. "It's not my fault the squints weren't doing their jobs."

"Hmm," the doctor hummed soothingly, and then he caught Arthur's eye and made a twirling motion with his finger. 

"Assume the position Colonel."

His eyes went wide and he hesitated before doing as he was told. "Is this....really necessary?"

"Your SGC file states that it's been over a year since you had a prostate exam. I might as well be thorough."

Arthur sighed and slipped off the bed to brace himself against it. He spread his legs and leaned forward, waiting for the doctor to get on with it. He wasn't prepared for the man to suddenly lean flush against his back, or for his voice to sound hot in Arthur's ear.

"Call me Merlin," the doctor rasped unprofessionally.

And then there were hands on him, strange because of the gloves. They spread his ass open, and before Arthur could react, a lubed finger slid unerringly inside him.

He gasped at the contact, and then forced his body to relax. He'd done this before. It wasn't a big deal...

Merlin's finger found his prostate and a full body shiver wracked Arthur's body. He felt his cock begin to grow between his thighs. His balls tightened up in anticipation of pleasure.

"You feel good inside," the doctor- _Merlin_ \- the doctor, said. He moved his finger in a slow circular motion, and then quickly slid it out of Arthur's slackened ass- gone loose to accommodate the examination.

Before Arthur could stand, however, the finger returned with more lube. It teased just on the inside of him, crooking to test the tightness of the muscle, before sliding in deeper to press flutter-quick at his prostate again.

"Wha," He tried to turn around, to see, but Merlin held him down with a firm hand between his shoulder blades. "What are you _doing_?"

" _Thorough_ ," Merlin reminded him in a voice gone from raspy to downright husky, and just to make his point he brought another finger in to tease at Arthur's hole.

It felt strange, and shudder-good, and too much and Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to buck into it, or try to wrestle himself away.

A tap against his prostate decided him.

"Fuck!" he hissed, and his entire body spasmed as the second finger finally slid inside of him, working with the first to open him up, make him wet.

"You like this don't you?" Merlin laughed.

Arthur could only offer a hissed "Hnng," in reply, and then another, "Fuck!"

Merlin was assaulting his prostate relentlessly now. His fingers pressed and pet, jabbed and then fluttered, matching the quiver Arthur felt deep in his gut, until it was suddenly too much.

His orgasm was bright hot, and he was dimly aware of his come shooting in stringy ropes over the crisp sheets.

He slumped, boneless, and when he felt the head of a cock nudge against him, he didn't protest. It filled him up, gave his rippling muscles something to grip so that his orgasm seemed to continue even after his come had stopped spurting out.

The angle was odd, but good as Merlin took up a steady rhythm behind him. He wasn't loud, he couldn't afford to be, with them still in the infirmary, but Arthur could just make out the steady huffs of his pleasure.

And then Merlin seized up and warmth flooded into Arthur's body.

+-+-+

"We should get cleaned up," Arthur said as he kissed Merlin fondly. "Don't want to get caught."

"Mmm," Merlin mumbled, and then he lifted his head from between Arthur's shoulder blades. "Thank you Arthur. I know you could get court marshaled for this."

Arthur shrugged. It had been worth it. "But next time, we get to do _my_ fantasy. I'm thinking..." He chewed the inside of his cheek, "you. Servant for a day. Hmm... has potential."

He laughed when Merlin slapped him playfully on the ass.

* * *

**21**  
Fusion: Temeraire

The waves lapped gently against the _Camelot_ ’s hull, the rocking motion as soothing and familiar to Arthur as any lullaby. Arthur felt a trickle of sweat run down his temple as the largest dragon he had ever seen landed on the deck. 

Aithusa nudged Arthur’s hand with his snout. “Is that how big I’ll be when I’m grown?” 

Arthur couldn’t imagine the dragon he had watched hatch from an egg—and who could once fit in his lap—ever growing to that monstrous size. “I don’t know,” he said, scratching Aithusa’s favourite spot behind his ear affectionately.

Arthur waited until the dragon’s captain dismounted before stepping closer to greet him. For such an impressive dragon, his captain didn’t look like much: he perhaps a year or two younger than himself, had dark hair, startlingly blue eyes, and rather large ears. 

“I’m Captain Merlin Emrys on Kilgharrah,” the captain said, smiling brightly and holding out his hand for Arthur to shake. 

Arthur took Merlin’s hand in his own. His grip was firmer than Arthur expected. “Captain Arthur Penn of the _Camelot_ ,” he said formally.

Merlin’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced at Aithusa.

A great rumble shook the ship, and it took Arthur a moment to recognise it as Merlin’s dragon—Kilgharrah—speaking. “Perhaps you would do us the honour of introducing us to your dragon,” he said pointedly. 

Arthur cursed himself inwardly for his inadvertent rudeness. “My apologies,” he said. “This is Aithusa.” Arthur saw Merlin and Kilgharrah exchange glances.

“An interesting name,” Kilgharrah said, sounding intrigued. 

“Arthur gave it to me,” Aithusa said, nuzzling Arthur’s hand. “You’re not going to take him away from me, are you?”

“That’s what we’re here to decide,” Merlin said carefully, with an apologetic glance at them.

“I won’t let that happen,” Aithusa said resolutely. 

Arthur felt an odd sensation rise in his chest as Merlin looked at him, his gaze clear and direct. 

“I am hungry again,” Aithusa added urgently.

Arthur saw Merlin unsuccessfully hide a smile behind his hand. Lifting his chin, Arthur summoned the ship’s cooks for Aithusa’s next meal.

*

It wasn’t until Aithusa was fed, cleaned, and asleep at Arthur’s feet that Kilgharrah began his reasoning. “A young dragon like Aithusa would do best with an experienced captain. Surely you must understand that.”

Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder—a shocking impropriety, but one that Arthur allowed, considering the circumstances. “We’ll take good care of him. If you joined the Corps, you’ll be giving up any chance of having a family, of calling your life your own: a dragon is a captain’s first and only priority. You must think of what is best for Aithusa.”

Arthur looked down at his hands, clenched into fists. He thought of his father’s hatred for the dragons that killed his mother, and what it would mean if Arthur were to become the captain of one. He thought of never commanding the _Camelot_ again, and of leaving her crew behind. 

And he thought of the dragon curled at his feet, fast asleep. At his hatching, he had walked straight toward Arthur and startled them all by inviting Arthur to give him a name, a name that fell from Arthur’s lips without a thought, one that he knew was right.

The words were thick in Arthur’s throat. “He is my dragon, and I am his captain.”

Kilgharrah’s chuckle made the masts rumble. “Perhaps destiny has a way of working itself out after all.”

*

Arthur dismounted, laughing uncontrollably as Aithusa nudged him worriedly, much stronger since his rapid growth in the months following their arrival at the Corps’ training grounds. “I’m fine,” Arthur said, patting Aithusa’s muzzle. “You flew well today.”

“We’ll have you flying in our formation yet,” Merlin said, grinning from Kilgharrah’s back.

Later, Arthur pushed Merlin up against the wall of his room, still exhilarated from the sheer joy of flying with him in perfect unison. He pressed Merlin’s smiling mouth against his own, tasting the sky and the wind on his lips, and drew him down to the bed.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Arthur said, wrapping his hand around Merlin’s hard length and rutting up against Merlin’s thigh. Merlin moaned underneath him, writhing as he pushed his cock upward in Arthur’s grip. Arthur shuddered, rocking back against Merlin’s thigh, too desperate for anything requiring more coordination. 

“I knew it,” Merlin said breathlessly, biting down on Arthur’s shoulder. “I knew you were the right one for Aithusa. And for me.”

Arthur stifled his cry as he came all over Merlin’s thighs. He stroked Merlin until he came with a gasp, and watched as Merlin fell apart beneath his hand. 

It almost felt like flying.

* * *

**22**  
Crossover: Doctor Who

”Here we are then,” said the Doctor, stepping out of the TARDIS.

”Where is here?” Rose asked. ”And what _is_ that smell?”

They walked around a corner and found themselves on a marketplace full of animals, people shouting, and a distant sound of swords clashing together.

”Ah, old times. Welcome to Camelot, Rose. Jack.”

”Camelot? Seriously? You mean to say we’re here to meet King Arthur and the knights of the round table?” Rose asked excitedly.

”Well, some of the legends might be true. I say we find out! Coming, Jack?”

”Not quite yet,” Jack said and eyed a young dark-haired man with high cheekbones. ”I’ll catch you two later.”

The Doctor gave him a look, and Rose giggled, when she followed him.

“Hello there,” Jack said, walking next to the young man. “What do they call you then?”

The man stopped and looked at Jack up and down.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Obviously.”

“Oh, sorry. I’d love to talk, but Prince Arthur is waiting for me. I’m already late.”

Prince _Arthur_? In _Camelot_?

“You didn’t tell me your name!” Jack shouted after the man who had broken into run.

“I’m Merlin,” he called back and was on his way.

It took Jack a moment to register what the man had said. He glanced around, didn’t see a sign of the Doctor or Rose, so he followed. There seemed to be something blocking his view when he arrived on a field where several pieces of armour and a sword were lying. The block was nothing too strong, some kind of power field, but if he could just...

Aha! One of the Torchwood devices in his pocket did the job and made a small, square window, letting him see on the other side of the force field. 

What he found wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting, which was not to say it wasn’t a pleasant surprise. A _very_ pleasant surprise.

“...I could make it up to you, sire.”

“And how are you planning to do that, _Merlin_? Polish all my swords?”

Merlin whispered something in the blond man’s ear. Jack assumed this was Prince Arthur. The prince blushed and growled.

“Such a tease, Merlin.”

And then the prince pulled him into a kiss.

Well, there were definitely worse ways to pass time in a medieval village than watching two attractive men making out, Jack thought. 

Or taking pictures of them.

 _Very_ interesting pictures, Jack realised a second later, when Merlin smiled at Arthur and dropped to his knees.

“Someone might come here and see, Merlin.”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Now shut up and enjoy this, sire.”

The sight of Merlin swallowing around Arthur’s cock made Jack swallow too. He saw a flash of tongue for a second and then it was gone, but the way their bodies worked in synch told Jack that it was not the first time the prince and his servant were doing this. Arthur was looking at Merlin like he was a wondrous thing, and Jack couldn’t blame him, because the young magician had caught his eye too on the marketplace.

Something about the way Arthur caressed Merlin’s hair and neck and whispered things Jack couldn’t hear also told him that the prince wouldn’t probably be too keen on any ideas of sharing Merlin.

Arthur bit his hand when he came. Merlin kept on swallowing until his breathing steadied, and after that Arthur helped Merlin up. Merlin adjusted his trousers and was moving away when Arthur caught his hand.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“I have chores to do, sire.”

“But you haven’t...”

Merlin looked at Arthur under his eyelashes.

“Come here.”

“But...”

“It was an order,” Arthur said, pulled Merlin into another kiss and pushed a hand inside his trousers.

“Hey, Jack. Where have you been?”

Jack instantly turned off the device and looked in the direction of Rose’s voice.

“Just looking around.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Learning bits and pieces of history. Took some photos,” Jack said, not specifying what kind of history he had been studying.

“The Doctor thinks we should go. We met the King who blamed the Doctor for sorcery, and he said I should find you, and we should go now.”

Back inside the TARDIS Rose lamented that he had not actually seen King Arthur, because apparently they had ended up in a wrong year.

Jack went through his pictures, some of which were pretty amazing, and somehow failed to correct the assumption.


	2. Group B (with warnings)

**23**

Crossover: Terry Pratchett's Discworld

The ewe let go a loud, flatulent ‘parp’. Merlin gagged. 

“Remind me again why we’re lying in this sodden field in the dead of night, staring up the arse end of a sheep?” 

A dark hummock nearby sighed. “Quit whining Merlin. The plan is to catch the livestock thieves plaguing this district.”

“But why us? You’re King. You have bailiffs and barons for this work. You don’t personally investigate every petty crime in Camelot.”

“The village headman claimed the animals were flying out of the fields. It’s clearly sorcery!”

“Sounds like someone’s been into the scumble,” muttered another shadowy hump.

“Shut up, Gwaine.”

“I didn’t say a word!” the hummock protested.

The night air muttered.

“Merlin, I can hear you!”

“Can not!”

“What the hell does ‘crivens’ mean anyway?”

Merlin’s protest was cut off by a loud cry.

“Ready lads? Yin, tan, tethra! Hup hup hyup!”

A sheep at the edge of the flock rose eight inches and glided at speed for the paddock gate. Backwards.

“Knights, to arms!”

Sheep scattered as cloaked figures sprang to arms. Swords flashed, but no enemy could be seen. The levitating sheep settled as fast as it had risen.

“Who goes there!?”

A voice drifted up from the grass at Arthur’s feet “Ye’hear, lads? Ta bigjobs want tae see oos!”

Before Arthur rose a strange form - a very large pyramid made up of very small blue men. The wee figure at the apex shouted, “Ach, ye skivvens, sommun hol’ me cote, wiles I tak tae ‘is feece! Can yer mother sew, ye daftie? Tell her tae stitch this!” It launched itself at the King’s face with a howl, hitting Arthur’s nose with a resounding crack and sending him over like a felled tree. 

The field erupted in chaos.

“Get it off! Get it off!”

“Let go my hair! Ow!”

“It’s in my pants! Get it out.. argghhh!”

Merlin darted behind a fence and began to chant, his eyes flashing gold. He nearly choked on the incantation when the shrub behind him whispered in his ear.

“T’will get you nowhere. They lads be immune to magic.”

Like that picture of the old woman who becomes a young maid if you stare at it long enough, the bush shifted and became a lovely young woman in a tall, pointed hat. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful. Brown hair hung long in a simple braid and she wore a plain green dress above a pair of sturdy, sensible boots. She had a presence about her, as if she bent the universe around her like a lead ball on a rubber sheet.

With scarcely a glance at Merlin she stepped forward and took in the battle. “I suppose I’d best put a stop to’it. THAT’LL BE ENOUGH O’ THAT YE SCUNNERS!”

~~~

At the tavern, Arthur nursed his bloodied nose and peered at the tiny man perched on the table before him. He was blue-skinned with wild red-hair and wore nothing but a ragged kilt and rabbit-skull helmet.

“So... you’re Nac Mac Feegle, and you’re pixies?”

“Pictsies!”

“Right. You’re Rob Anybody, their chief?”

“Big mun o’ t’clan, aye.” 

“And the sheep?”

“Wi’d snaffle t’a coobeastie, aye?”

Merlin and the strange girl exchanged an amused glance, leaving the king and the small chieftain deep in conversation. They paused to watch Gwaine losing a drinking competition with several scruffy Feegles. Leon was out cold, and Elyan was surreptitiously trying to make for the stairs, one hand gripping his trousers and a Feegle on each shoulder. Percival was arm wrestling a generously proportioned Feegle named Big Yan, who was promising to “climb him like a mountain”, while No'-As-Big-As-Medium-Sized-Jock-But-Bigger-than-Wee-Jock Jock played bawdy tavern songs on the mouse-pipes in the corner.

The girl sighed. “A good fight followed by a good drink and they’re happy.” 

“Sounds familiar.”

“They’ll not bother your kingdom any more. I’ll see to it.”

Merlin cut her off with an abrupt cough and look of warning. “I know what you are, but don’t announce it,” he hissed. “Magic users are not... appreciated here.”

The girl cocked her head, her eyes flicking from the King back to Merlin.

“He doesn’t know, then?”

Merlin’s pained expression was answer enough.

Tiffany took his hand. “Your time will come.”

Glancing back, she appeared to address an overhanging tree branch. “This is private. Follow us and face the wrath o’ yer hag, ye ken?”

“Crivens!” said a tiny voice from aloft.

Tiffany tugged Merlin’s hand. “Come on, then. Tonight, at least, you’re not alone.”

* * *

**24**

**Warnings: Age gap, Merlin is underage (exact age unspecified)  
Fusion: Batman**

The boy is an orphan. He reminds Arthur of himself, the sad lines of his face caving in against the misery of losing his parents, of being helpless to turn back time and do something different-- _anything_ \--to save them.

Arthur presses one broad hand to the boy’s tiny shoulder. It could snap under the weight, and so he is careful. Merlin looks up at him with a dull, directionless gaze. A child no more, drowning in grief. Arthur wants to pull him out of it. He has the means to take him in, at least. Merlin will be his ward. He will live at Pendragon Manor, will have every luxury and protection. Arthur will find the sonofabitch who ordered the hit. He will track him down. Justice will be served.

**

The boy sits at the console when Arthur drives through the waterfall, into the Cave. Alarms have been going off since Merlin snuck in twenty minutes ago. Too curious, touching everything. He steps out of the Batmobile, frowns at the deep pain and frustration etched onto Merlin’s young face.

“Why didn’t you save my parents? You were there that night. You could have stopped it. You’re _Batman_.”

The cowl conceals his expression. It offers protection from physical injury, but it also distorts reality in Arthur’s favour, in all the ways that truly matter. “We’ll discuss this later.”

“We’ll discuss it now.” They stare at one another, neither backing down. “I must be here for a reason. I watched you tonight. You could use my help. I think I was meant to be by your side.”

**

The darkness of Gotham-- _his city_ \--is his salvation.

That he would do anything to protect it is an understatement. There is no other reason that the boy at his side is to become his partner tonight.

Arthur Pendragon, billionaire playboy and CEO of Pendragon Enterprises, doesn’t like the idea. He thinks Batman must act alone. He thinks the boy is too young, that his pain is too fresh, that his inexperience will show despite his skill and the intense training Arthur put him through these past months. Arthur thinks it’s going to get him in trouble; the second he cares more about Merlin’s welfare than Gotham’s is the moment he descends down the slippery slope towards vengeance.

Batman, though, the part of him that lives and breathes and tastes the city, knows that becoming Robin is Merlin’s fate, his destiny.

Together, they crouch on the roof of the GCPD building, the men on the streets like black ants scattering through the cracks of the sidewalk below. Merlin is antsy at his side. Arthur lays one large hand over his skinny shoulder. Still too small.

“You’re ready?” Arthur won’t ask twice.

Merlin’s boyish enthusiasm is almost contagious. He nods.

**

After a particularly rough night, Arthur tends to Merlin’s wounds at the Cave. Scrapes and bruises mostly. The boy is a wonder sometimes, his nimble acrobatics something like magic to behold and just as awing.

“I’m fine. _Arthur_.” His voice is rough-raw, pitched, as he holds Arthur’s hands in his own. “It takes more than a little fall to get rid of me.”

“That wasn’t a little fall.”

“I’m here.” Merlin’s thin, pale hands pry the cowl down, peel off the mystery one layer at a time, and all the boundaries that separate them emotionally, physically come down with it. “I’m right here.”

Arthur isn’t sure who leans in first. The meeting of their mouths is mutual, urgent. And once his lips have tasted Merlin, he cannot stop himself from feeding. Greedy, a man possessed, hands everywhere at once and restless, snapping the clasps at Robin’s cape, tugging his tunic off with hasty, impatient yanks. He tastes Merlin’s tongue, the sweat on his chin, the salt on the skin at the flat of his hip.

For a man who kneels for no one, Arthur kneels for Merlin.

He takes his time with Merlin’s cock, holds it on his tongue until the boy is panting, thrusting, coming completely undone. Arthur slicks his fingers with whatever is handy, pries Merlin open, so rough that he is afraid he is hurt when he moans.

“Don’t stop. Arthur, please...”

He thrusts in, bending the boy’s supple, lean body over the medical bay, bottoming out inside him with half his suit still in the way. There are more intimate places to do this, but that will come later. Right now, Arthur needs Merlin like men need oxygen to breathe.

* * *

**25**

Fusion: 10 Things I Hate About You

Arthur entered Uther’s study quietly, standing before the impressive mahogany desk that filled the space with opulence and seemed designed to breed an inferiority complex in all those who saw it.

“Yes?” Uther asked distractedly as he worked on the mountain of paperwork beside him.

“Well, Father, I was just wondering –“

“He wants to go to Lance’s party on Friday so he get drunk and rub up against some guy named Valiant,” Morgana called out through the doorway as she walked past, stopping to smirk at Arthur in petty sibling victory before disappearing down the hallway. Probably to go practice her witches cackle Arthur thought uncharitably.

“No parties, no dating, no dancing,” Uther said not looking up from his paperwork, “You know the rules. As the Mayor’s children you’re held at a higher standard of behaviour, the last thing I need is for some teenage pregnancy drama –“

“That’s really not an issue with me,” Arthur interrupted in disbelief.

Uther glanced up as if taking stock of which of his children was actually before him for the first time. “Fine,” he said stonily, the kernel of a plan taking root in his mind, “I’ll allow you to date.” Arthur’s victory was short lived. “But only when your sister does.”

“But she’s a witch! No one in their right mind would date her!”

“Then I’m liking this plan better and better.”

“Oh god, I’m going to die a lonely virgin.”

“Don’t be silly son,” Uther said absentmindedly his attention refocused to the work before him, “You certainly won’t be lonely. Just think of all the cats you can adopt.”

**

“I don’t know why you want to go out with Valiant anyway,” Merlin complained, “He’s a self-absorbed wanker.”

“Well _Mer_ lin,” Arthur drawled, “He’s the only one who’s asked me.” Arthur wiggled his eyebrows in Merlins direction, obviously trying to communicate with him in a form of silent language unknown to the rest of the world.

“I get it,” Merlin said, “You’re a turnip head and he’s a wanker. It’s a match made in heaven!”

Arthur released a frustrated sigh. “You’re not helping Merlin,” he complained, “Who would date a shrew like Morgana?”

“Well… there’s always Gwaine. I’m sure he’s up for the challenge.”

**

“Hello gorgeous, are you Morgana?” 

“Go away before I hurt you.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

**

Merlin gasped as someone grabbed his hand and tugged him into a disused classroom, heart pounding in shock as he fell against his assailants’ solid chest. He looked up with trepidation before realising it was only Gwaine, body slumping in relief. 

Arthur appeared in the doorway seconds later, the concerned frown on face transforming into a glare as he pulled Merlin sharply to his side and away from Gwaine’s strong arms and wandering fingers.

“What intel have you boys got for me?” Gwaine asked in amusement, Arthur possessive stance a warning of its own.

“Have you heard of the Skunk Club?” Arthur questioned with a vicious smile. 

**

“So are you stalking me now?” 

“No princess,” Gwaine grinned charmingly, “I’m just here for a quiet drink”

“You do know this is a lesbian bar, don’t you?” Morgana asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

“Where else can a man of my stunning good looks go to relax without being hit on?”

**

“This isn’t working Merlin!”

“Give it time Arthur, Gwaine can be quite charming when he-- stop glaring at me like that!”

**

“If I serenade you will you date me?”

“That depends,” Morgana states, amusement dripping from every word, “How good is your singing?”

**

The last thing Merlin had expected was for Arthur to show up on his door step on Prom night, looking like an Adonis, with spare tux in hand.

“Shouldn’t you be with Valiant?” he stammered confusedly as Arthur shoved him through his bathroom door and began stripping him, fingers running deftly over buttons as he pulled the tux into place.

Arthur smirked triumphantly, wrapping an arm around Merlins waist as he studied their reflection in the bathroom mirror, Merlin half-dressed and confused with Arthur an image of contented strength behind him. “Really Merlin, haven’t you figured it out yet? Why in the world would I want Valiant when I could have you?”

**

“I’m only doing this for Arthur,” Morgana stated between kisses, dress hiked up to her waist as she writhed on Gwaine’s lap in the back seat of his car. His hands cupping her breasts, as she pressed down against his erection.

“Whatever you say Princess.”

* * *

**26**

 

 **Fusion:** Power Rangers

 

The six rangers stared down at their new suits in awe, both startled and pleased at the feel of the material against their skin. Arthur, of course, was the red ranger, Lancelot the blue, Gwen the yellow ranger, Morgana the green, Gwaine the black and finally, Merlin the-

‘ _Pink?_ ’ Merlin all but shrieked. ‘How the _fuck_ am I the sodding _pink_ ranger?’

Arthur, finally pulling away from admiring his form in the close-fitting suit, turned to look over at Merlin. He smirked at the sight before him.

‘Take a wild guess,’ he murmured, barely suppressing a snort at the dirty look he received.

‘But it’s _pink_!’ Merlin wailed, looking around for support. ‘How am I supposed to save the world wearing _this_ thing? I look like a bloody _girl_!’

‘I think you look nice in it, Merlin,’ Lancelot said, sounding completely earnest and genuine as he said it, the git.

‘Don’t worry,’ Gwaine leered, all but strutting over in his shiny black suit. ‘If you need a hand taking it off, I won’t mind volunteeri-’ a sudden jab to the stomach from Arthur’s elbow stopped Gwaine before he could go any further. 

‘It is your destiny to wear that colour, young ranger,’ Kilgharrah intoned, from where he was trapped within the shields, his great voice booming through the room. ‘It will lead you to your fate. It is the tool with which you will achieve greatness.’

Merlin looked exceedingly unimpressed.

‘Lord Kilgharrah is right,’ chirruped Aithusa, Kilgharrah’s aide and helper. ‘By wearing the suit, you will finally receive all that was meant for you.’

Merlin still looked doubtful.

‘You will see, young ranger,’ Kilgharrah boomed out wisely, his face pressed up against the shields. ‘You will see …’

 

…

 

‘You know,’ Merlin panted out, clutching wildly at Arthur’s shoulder as he eased himself inside Merlin’s body. ‘When Aithusa said that I would get what was coming to me, I didn’t realise it meant your _cock_!’

Arthur’s face slid up in a grin before he sighed, having finally settled fully inside of Merlin.

‘Fuck,’ he grunted, pulling out of Merlin before pushing his way back in, causing them both to groan. ‘God Merlin, you look so fucking hot in that pink suit, you have no idea.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Merlin rasped out, his eyes shut as he moved his hips to the rhythm that Arthur was pounding into him. ‘You liked it?’

‘Fuck yeah,’ Arthur moaned, gripping Merlin tightly. ‘Couldn’t keep my eyes off you. All that tight pinkness around your cock, your _arse_ -’ he gave a rough thrust into Merlin as if the emphasise the last point – ‘wanted to just shove you against the wall and mmmpph.’ He moaned as Merlin suddenly swooped down and took Arthur’s lips in a rough kiss.

Merlin was just about to do something very clever with his tongue when he was interrupted by a beeping sound from his wrist, indicated an incoming transmission.

‘Er, guys?’ came Gwaine’s voice when Merlin pressed the button on his communicator. ‘Not that I’m not all for grabbing a bit of nookie whenever possible, but-’

‘Get your arses down here _right_ now you bloody _morons_!’ Gwen’s voice suddenly snarled down the communicator, causing both Arthur and Merlin to wince. Gwen losing her temper was a very rare occurrence, after all.

‘ _Really_ guys,’ Morgana drawled, her voice sounding out crisply from the communicator. ‘Believe me, it’s a relief to all of us that you finally got your act together but _really_? Did it _have_ to be right in the middle of fighting the Questing Beast that Mordred Monstrosso sent?’

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a guilty look.

‘Sorry,’ Arthur muttered.

‘We’ll be right out,’ Merlin added, sighing. Turning off his communicator, he looked back at Arthur.

 

‘Well,’ Arthur said after a pause. ‘I suppose we should go then.’

‘Yeah,’ Merlin agreed but neither of them moved. Then Merlin’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips and, in reflex, Arthur’s dick, still deep inside Merlin’s arse, gave a twitch.

‘But you know, we’re already here …’ Arthur said hurriedly.

‘And it’s not as if we’d need long,’ Merlin added eagerly.

They both stole a glance at their communicators.

‘Fuck it,’ Arthur said, before pulling Merlin’s head towards him and kissing him long and hard. Then his hips started jerking and the cave was once again filled with the sound of moaning and sighing.

Back at the Power Ranger headquarters, Kilgharrah and Aithusa shared a knowing smirk. 

The pink suit had fulfilled its purpose.

* * *

**27**

Fusion: [Dragon Age II](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_Age_II)

Darktown isn't Gwaine's favorite place in the city--that's reserved for the Hanged Man inn--but he does prefer it to the hoity-toity Hightown and its nobles who frown whenever he even steps in their vicinity. Like they can tell he doesn't belong up there. Fuck them. He'd still be living there if it weren't for the damned Chantry and damned Knight-Commander Meredith insisting his father had sided with blood mages.

No, Darktown is much more to his liking. The people are _real_ here. The only backstabbing in Darktown is the literal stabbing in the back, versus Hightown's deceit and lies.

It's also a good place to have illicit trysts with known apostates.

"Templars are looking for you again," Gwaine says right before he leans in to kiss Merlin. It's good to have Merlin in his arms. Merlin melts into his embrace, meets his kiss with full force.

It's been too long.

His hands are undoing Merlin's robes when Merlin says something. Gwaine stops and stares until Merlin repeats it, and he can almost see how the mood evaporates.

"What about Arthur?"

Yes, what about Arthur. Gwaine rolls his eyes. "Arthur, shining example of Templar that he is, is leading the search for you."

"But he's keeping them off my trail, right?" Merlin's eyes are so damned hopeful as he asks; Gwaine doesn't have the heart to lie to make Arthur look bad.

"Yeah, he came by the Hanged Man to warn me. Said you need to get out of town. Hawke might be a much bigger fish in Meredith's eyes, but the other Templars are looking for any type of victory to get into her good graces. Everybody's out for blood, Merlin. It's not safe for you here."

It's a subject he's brought up more than once. He does what he can to keep Merlin from discovery, but he's not exactly popular in town either. There's only so far charm alone can get him--after that, the only thing that works is gold, and that's not something a rogue like him has an abundance of.

Merlin bites his lower lip and averts his gaze. "If I leave, what will happen to you? What'll happen to Arthur?"

For some reason, Merlin's got it in his head that Arthur and Gwaine need protecting from some invisible big bad. Yeah, Merlin's powerful, but there's not much he can do that Arthur--and his father's money--can't.

Finally Gwaine shakes his head. "Whatever. I still think you should split, but for now, let's enjoy this."

Merlin nods, and just like that, he seems to have his enthusiasm back. He undoes Gwaine's belt buckle and slides his hand in, palming Gwaine's cock and coaxing it into an erection. 

Gwaine has to push Merlin's robes up to return the favor, but the rumor about mages not wearing anything underneath isn't a complete lie: Merlin likes to go au naturel, which is still as hot now as when he discovered that tidbit all those months ago. 

Merlin pushes a thigh between Gwaine's legs and thrusts against him. "Gwaine," he whispers, his breath caressing the shell of Gwaine's ear and making Gwaine shiver. Yeah. Forget Arthur. This is way better. 

Somehow Gwaine ends up against the wall, Merlin grinding against him, and it doesn't matter that it's just a dank corner in Darktown with a small pallet in the corner--this is better than some fancy inn, because Merlin is moaning his name and his hands are roaming under Gwaine's shirt and for the next few moments, the world is reduced to just him and Merlin. 

Gwaine cups Merlin's ass and urges him to move faster, loving the friction of the robe against his thigh. It gets even better when Merlin pulls him into another kiss; their tongues twist around each other and Gwaine feels like Merlin is touching his very core.

When Merlin pulls away, Gwaine has to gasp for breath. Merlin pauses only briefly though, before moving on to suck at Gwaine's neck. That's going to leave a mark. That's going to leave a mark where _everybody can see_.

It's embarrassing that _that_ sends him over the edge, but Gwaine can't stop himself; Merlin is all around him, and it's a type of permanence he knows he'll never truly have.

Merlin continues thrusting against him, and Gwaine reaches between them to help him out. It's only once they're both satisfied and wrung out that Merlin said, "I'll leave in the morning. Send Arthur my regards?"

Gwaine grits his teeth and nods.

* * *

**28**

**Fusion (I think? idek) - with Fifty Shades of Grey.  
Warnings: use of restraints and a blindfold, ironic mentions of inner goddesses.**

“You want me to _what_?” I glare at him and wait for a response. My inner goddess is cracking her knuckles and waiting to junk punch him. 

“I want you to be my submissive, Morgana,” Gwaine replies smoothly, tilting his head, his perfect mane of hair gleaming in the subtle lighting of the ridiculously expensive restaurant he’d insisted on. He pushes an envelope towards me across the pristine tablecloth. “Please -- take the time to read the contract and consider my proposal.”

_Holy Fuck!_

I shake my head, is he really serious? My subconscious is rolling her eyes at me and tapping her foot impatiently -- clearly waiting for me to tell him to fuck off. But my inner goddess is resistant. _Look at the pretty_ , she’s saying. _You don’t see totty like that every day, you have to get at least one shag out of him before you turn him down._

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him coolly as I pick up my wine glass and drain it. I push back my chair, leaving my food uneaten. “I’ll be in touch.”

He stands as I leave, manners impeccable as always. “Laters, baby.” I kiss his cheek and smirk.

xOx

I let him stew for a few days before emailing.

**I’ve thought about your proposal and would like to discuss it further. Come to my flat for dinner tonight.  
M x**

xOx

He looks devastating as always, in a white linen shirt and silver-grey tie. He’s wearing those trousers that hang from his hips in that way that makes me want to rip them off with my teeth. 

During dinner I tease him subtly and relentlessly, chewing on my lower lip until it hurts, and flashing my cleavage at him at every possible opportunity. His eyes linger on my nipples through the sheer fabric of my dress and my inner goddess fist pumps and grins like a maniac.

“So, Gwaine darling,” I purr as I slide onto his lap after we’ve eaten. “Gorgeous though you are, being tied up and whipped really isn’t my cup of tea... and my orgasms belong to _me_.” I kiss the pout off his flawless lips and smile sweetly. “But maybe we could try something a little different, just this once?”

xOx

He’s a lot less suave once I’ve got him spread-eagled on my mattress wearing an eye mask and nothing else. His wrists are lashed firmly to my headboard with his silk tie. He lies still as I circle the bed, admiring him from every angle. 

“So how does it feel to be out of control for a change, hmm?” I whisper. His head jerks towards the sound. 

I crawl onto the bed and explore every inch of him with kisses, starting with his feet. Every time he moves, I stop and wait; he catches on pretty quickly. As I nuzzle his thighs, the muscles are taut with tension but he stays still. “Good boy,” I murmur, running just the tip of my nose along his straining erection before I turn my attention to his chest. By the time I work my way back down to his cock it’s sticky-wet. I swallow him down with no warning, making him gasp.

He tastes delicious but I want to feel him inside me. So I pull off and move to straddle him, sliding down onto him in one easy movement. 

“Please...” he gasps, voice husky. “I want to see you.” I pull the mask off and his eyes are dark and desperate. “So beautiful,” he growls, bucking his hips up into me.

I grind down on him, fingering my clit until I come hard, shuddering and quaking with it as he whimpers and tries to fuck up into me. When I’m done I ride him in earnest, dragging his orgasm out of him and have another one of my own while I’m at it.

xOx

I kiss him goodbye on my doorstep, shivering as the chilly night air touches my skin.

“I was thinking...” he suggests tentatively. “Maybe I could change -- for you?”

“No need, sweetie,” I stroke his cheek. “I wouldn’t ask you to. There’s nothing wrong with what you want. I’m just not the girl for you, I don’t have a submissive bone in my body. But my friend Gwen might be more your type. I’ll get her to give you a call.”

* * *

**29**

Fusion: Star Wars  
Warnings: Crack, blatant plagiarism (some lines lifted directly from Empire), featuring Han Solo!Merlin and Princess Leia!Arthur when they’re hiding in the asteroid space worm.

Merlin hung back in the corridor to observe. Arthur was attempting to fuse some shot copper wires to the charger hatch. Merlin bit his lip, suppressing a chuckle; it was obvious the Prince had no idea what he was doing. He looked exhausted, and his frustration in his inability to mend the charger hatch could be seen in the tension along his shoulders. 

He still wore the snowsuit he had on when they escaped Hoth. The rich, white fabric was now smudged with dirt and grease, and an errant smudge had even found its way to Arthur’s jaw. Merlin’s fingers itched to reach out and wipe it away. 

He watched a few more silent seconds until Arthur lit the blowtorch and Merlin’s fear for his beloved Falcon trumped his desire to observe. He stepped up behind Arthur and lifted the torch out of his hands. “What the—“

“Your Princelyness, I’m only trying to help.” Merlin held his hands up, torch safely in his grasp, in mock surrender and gave what he hoped was a winsome grin. 

Arthur groaned and scrubbed his face with his dirty hands. “Will you stop calling me that?”

Merlin’s grin widened. “Sure, Arthur.” 

Arthur raised his face to the heavens and heaved a sigh, drawing Merlin’s eyes to the long column of his neck. A trickle of sweat slid down his skin. Merlin fought the urge to step forward and lick the droplet. 

“You make everything exceedingly difficult.” Arthur’s voice sounded tired, and Merlin felt the tiniest bit guilty. Even exhausted, he still looked haughty and untouchable. 

In the black of space, away from the palaces and politics that separated their two lives, Merlin longed to strip him of his titles and tear down the differences between them. He set the blowtorch down and used the movement to step closer. Arthur’s eyes widened, and he stepped back, pushing himself against the circuit paneling. 

“I do,” Merlin said, unapologetic. “I really, really do. You don’t have to be such a prat, though. Come on, admit it, sometimes you think I’m alright.” 

Arthur snorted, and Merlin counted it a victory, as his eyes softened the tiniest bit. “Occasionally. Maybe. When you aren’t acting like an idiot.”

A shock of laughter burst out of him and was treated to the first smile he had seen on Arthur’s face since the Empire had chased them into the darkest corner of space. “An idiot? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

Arthur’s smile turned cheeky. “Then stop acting like an idiot, and I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” 

A scrap of copper wire dropped into Arthur’s hair from where he was leaning against the charger hatch. Merlin seized the opportunity and lifted his fingers to run through Arthur’s thick, silky tresses to nudge the wire free. “Stop that, your hands are dirty.”

Merlin ignored him and stepped closer. “Your hands are dirty, too,” he whispered into Arthur’s ear. “What difference does it make?” He rubbed his nose along the hot skin of Arthur’s neck. He smelled like the ice of Hoth and something heady and lovely that made his trousers tight. 

Arthur’s gave a quick intake of breath and move forward just enough for Merlin to feel the hardness of his erection against his thigh. He could feel his pulse racing in Arthur’s neck and his hot, damp breaths against his collarbone. Merlin shifted his head and kissed him. 

Arthur was a tidal wave of motion against his lips. He idly wondered if this was what Luke and the old man were talking about when the spoke of The Force, because Arthur’s lips felt magical. A tongue lapped at the entrance of his mouth, begging entreaty, and Darth Vader couldn’t have stopped him from deepening their kiss. 

Merlin gripped Arthur’s arse and tugged him closer, bringing their groins together with rough friction. The sparks of heat between them made Merlin feel better than he had when he broke the records of the Kessel Run. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, and Arthur’s lips were hard and unrelenting against his. 

In a display that took his breath, Arthur reversed their positions and pushed Merlin against the wall and angled their groins to rub against together with greater precision that left Merlin’s knees weak. Every nudge of Arthur’s hardness against his own pushed his breath faster and brighter. 

Their kiss turned messy and wet. He wanted to devour Arthur, and the fierce determination of Arthur’s lips promised the same. They rubbed against each other and Merlin had never felt anything so wonderful in his life. His orgasm was on the edge of his vision and Arthur’s tense body signaled he was close as well. 

“Sir! Sir, I’ve isolated the reverse flux power cuplink!”

Arthur jerked back, wide eyed, and turned away from Merlin and the intruding droid. Merlin had been _so close_. His body was still trembling. Every fiber of his being wanted 3P0 to explode into a mass of flames. He steeled himself with a shaky breath and turned to face 3P0. “Yes. Thank you. Very much.” 

“Oh! You’re perfectly welcome, sir!” 

Merlin dragged trembling fingers through his hair and turned back to Arthur, only to find him already gone.

* * *

**30**

 

Crossover: Psych  
Warnings: Voyeurism

 

[Psych office, Santa Barbara. Afternoon.]

“Gus! That Arthur Dragonpen really didn’t like the idea of a psychic detective working his father’s case, did he?”

“Arthur Pendragon, Shawn. And no. He did not.”

Shawn twirled around in his desk chair. Chairs that twirled were clearly superior to chairs that did not. “Said it was the last thing his father would have wanted. I thought the last thing his father would’ve wanted was to be found dead on his estranged daughter’s toilet.”

“Exactly.”

“And that guy, the one with the - “ Shawn made cupping motions around his ears. “Wait. Do you think he has super hearing? Why didn’t we ask if he has super hearing?”

“Because we’re grown men, Shawn.”

“Speak for yourself. Anyway, he seemed awfully suspicious.”

“Of you. He was suspicious _of you_. And since you’re lying about being psychic, he has every right to be. The surprising thing is more people don’t look at you like that.”

Shawn waved a dismissive hand, getting to his feet. Wheels were turning. Thoughts were thinking. Plans were becoming one with motion.

And all of that would go better with a Del Taco enchilada, and the evidence in Shawn’s life so far suggested this wasn’t a world where enchiladas could appear out of thin air.

 

[Pendragon estate, Montecito. Evening.]

“No. Don’t even bother trying to explain why we’re sneaking around the man’s house at night wearing dark turtlenecks and black jeans, Shawn. We both know you just wanted to spy on the pretty British people.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. And, pretty? Really, Gus?”

Gus shrugged. “I have eyes.”

“Well, use them to look through that keyhole.”

“Only if you look through the other one.” Pendragon’s library was fancy enough to have not one, but two massive doors. Two disappointingly solid doors, meaning only trickles of conversation made it through.

They were damn intriguing trickles.

“ - never wanted you to have to lie to your father -”

“Merlin -”

“I know it’s like saying I’m glad your father’s dead, but - so glad I can tell you now, so glad -”

“Merlin -”

“ - me to leave -”

“ _Merlin!_ You do realize I’ve known for nearly two years? I only didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if _you_ knew. It would be just like you to have magical powers and not know you had them.”

Shawn and Gus peeled their eyes away long enough to mouth “Magic!” and exchange a series of high, low, and medium fives - and for Shawn to consider the enchilada-related possibilities - before getting back down to business.

Which turned out to be exactly what Pendragon and Emrys were doing. The kind of business that went well with cliché bearskin rugs and roaring fires.

“Gus, where do people get firewood from in Santa Barbara, anyway? It’s not like we have more than five minutes of winter.”

Gus didn’t answer, and Shawn didn’t care, because just then Emrys said something in a very weird language, and all of Pendragon’s clothes disappeared.

All of Pendragon’s clothes _disappeared_.

“Now there’s a skill to have,” Shawn breathed.

“You know that’s right.”

“Gus, hear me out.” Shawn’s heartbeat was doing funny things. Funny, interesting things. "I believe we owe it to the investigation to find out what else Emrys can do.”

"Seeing as the breaking and entering and invasion of privacy trains have already left the station? I agree."

Shawn gasped. Not because Gus had agreed with him, although that was startling enough, but because it appeared Pendragon - though not magical - had a pretty impressive skill-set of his own. He was doing things to Emrys’ cock with his tongue that Shawn had never dreamed of.

“Dammit, Gus, why did I have to be born in a country where male circumcision is the norm? Why?”

Gus responded by grabbing Shawn’s arm and shushing him. He didn’t let go when he was done with the shushing.

A foreskin looked like an awesome thing to have. Pendragon appeared to be done licking for the moment, and had switched to using his hand, pulling the skin up slowly, all the way up over the head; the harder Emrys got, the tighter it stretched. Shawn made a fist, feeling skin go taut over his knuckles, wondering how that might feel over the tip of his cock.

Damn good, he thought.

Emrys seemed to think so. He was panting now, fast, huffing breaths, and Gus' grip on Shawn's arm was getting painfully tight. To keep Gus from palming his own cock, Shawn knew, because if Shawn couldn’t make his fingernails cut his palm any harder, he'd be the first one to crack.

Gus had mocked the dress code. But the dress code had provided them with tight jeans that wouldn't show stains, and if that wasn’t foresight on Shawn’s part, nay, bordering on _precognition_ , then he didn’t know what was.

* * *

**31**

fusion: Twilight

Merlin looks up from his meal just in time to watch a group of newcomers enter the hall. A beautiful girl with long midnight black hair walking hand in hand with a tall bearded man and other two handsome brunets. Those three gorgeous male speciments would most definitely made it to his top twenty of wank fantasies.

“Who are they?” Merlin asks, glancing towards the mystery group’s table.

“Pendragons. Morgana, Leon, Gwaine and Percy,” Will says, not so subtly pointing at each of the mentioned. “They’re weird,” he adds.

“But you’d still bang Morgana,” Gwen says.

“If her own brother wasn’t doing her already,” Will says. “And I’m pretty sure Gwaine’s shagging with Percy. Or the other way around.”

Merlin doesn’t have too much time to wonder whether his new friends are taking the piss before the door opens again and the most fuckable blonde marches inside.

“And here goes Arthur,” Gwen says, her expression a bit dreamy.

“He doesn’t date lowly peasants like us,” Will says when he looks at Merlin with a smirk.

=+=+=+=+=

Of course the only empty seat in biology is right next to Arthur. And of course Arthur is acting like a blushing maiden. Only without the blushing.

=+=+=+=+=

“Are you stalking me, or what?” Merlin asks when he finds Arthur waiting for him after his last class of the day. 

Arthur shrugs.

“There’s something about you. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Seriously? Cheap pick up lines?” Merlin asks.

Arthur looks genuinely confused.

=+=+=+=+=

“Wow,” Merlin says, eyes wide. “You just stopped that car with your bare hands.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Arthur says, lowering Merlin to the ground and pulling away in an obvious attempt to run away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Merlin growls and his eyes flash gold.

“Oh,” Arthur gasps in surprise as some unseen force holds him in place.

He doesn’t fight it when Merlin brings their lips together.

=+=+=+=+=

“You don’t mind daylight, so why do you avoid direct sunlight?” Merlin asks, sprawled on the mossy ground of the forest.

“It’s embarrassing,” Arthur says.

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

Arthur sighs and steps into the clearing and... his skin sparkles.

At first, Merlin just stares, but then he bursts into laughter and Arthur scowls at him.

“Is it the same for every vampire or is it just the gay thing?” Merlin asks in between giggles.

=+=+=+=+=

 

“Do you want me to put in some graph or are we...”

Arthur looks up, words dying on his lips as he takes in Merlin standing in the middle of the room, dressed in Arthur’s shirt only.

“How about you put something else somewhere else?” Merlin says with a geeky grin and moves towards Arthur.

Arthur tenses when Merlin pushes their schoolwork aside and climbs onto Arthur’s lap, his arms winding around Arthur’s neck.

“I’m horny. Fuck me,” Merlin says.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur says. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s a great idea,” Merlin says and leads Arthur’s fingers to his opening. “I practiced every night,” he breathes into Arthur’s ear as he pushes Arthur’s forefinger inside.

Arthur growls and practically throws Merlin on the bed. He’s quick in removing his trousers, revealing the long line of his erection.

Merlin lets his legs fall apart shamelessly and Arthur crawls in between them. His kisses are rough and demanding and Merlin cries out in shock when Arthur shoves his cock deep inside him without warning. But Merlin wouldn’t want it any other way. 

=+=+=+=+=

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Arthur asks, searching Merlin’s eyes for any sort of uncertainty.

“Absolutely,” Merlin says, and Arthur doesn’t find any.

He lets his fangs descend.

=+=+=+=+=

“Oh great, now I’m sparkling too...”

* * *

**32**

Crossover with Mercedes Lackey's [ The Last Herald Mage](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mercedes_Lackey#The_Last_Herald_Mage) novel trilogy.

 

“He doesn’t know, does he?” Vanyel whispers into the strange mage’s rather large but oddly lovely ear.

“Who doesn’t know what?” Eyes like cobalt glass gleam with confusion.

“The man you love, he doesn’t know, does he?” The Herald-Mage skims his fingers through the silky black hair covering the tautly muscled chest he’s been resting his face upon.

“No, he…he’s not, he’s not like we are. He loves me as a friend, no more… _never_ more than that.”

Two pairs of long slender legs twine together on the rough cushion of an army bedroll while the canvas of their small tent flaps above them but doesn’t yield to the wind and rain lashing the fragile shelter. They lay where they’d fallen together after fighting off a band of Karsite bandits back to back, two against a hundred. The Karsites never had a chance.

“You should tell him.”

“I can’t. He loves another, a woman, a dear friend...and she loves him. I couldn’t…I _won’t_ burden him like that.”

“Are you truly sure it’s a burden he wouldn’t welcome?”

“No. Sometimes…sometimes he looks at me…well, it doesn’t matter, I just can’t.”

“There’s something else stopping you, isn’t there?” 

Vanyel aches as he watches the curve of lush pink lips twist into a self-mocking smile. This strange, lovely man had appeared out of nowhere and taken one look at the older, embattled mage before putting his back to Vanyel’s without a moment’s hesitation. Where had he come from? After the lust that heated in battle had cooled on their skin, he’d asked and been answered. The Herald-Mage had never heard of Camelot and Merlin had been unable to explain how to reach it or even how he’d reached Valdemar, only that he’d felt the pull of Vanyel’s need and had answered.

“He doesn’t know I have magic and if he finds out, he’ll likely execute me for it.”

“What! How…how can he not? You fair glow with power! I’ve never seen a mage so powerful before.”

“Except you.”

“I wouldn’t want to test that theory. There’d likely be nothing left of Valdemar but a smoking crater like the Southern Plane after the Mage-Wars.”

The young mage, Merlin, squirms uncomfortably for a moment under his intense scrutiny.

“Magic is forbidden in Camelot. Arthur, my King, his father banned it shortly after Arthur’s birth and had anyone with even a hint of magic slaughtered. None were spared, not even swaddled babes.”

Vanyel shakes long, silver-streaked, black hair from his face and fixes Merlin with a knowing look.

“And your Arthur…has never sought to change this law, not even for your sake?”

Merlin startles.

“How did you…? Well, like I said, he doesn’t know, not one or the other.”

“Still, you should tell him…you never know how long you’ll have him…you’ll regret it if you never get to…if he never knows how you care.”

The lithe, slender mage turns in his arms and meets his silver stare.

“Is that what happened to you? Why there’s so much pain in your soul even your power pulses with it?”

Eyes darken to gunmetal as his focus turns inward; Vanyel answers the only way he can.

“No, he knew…it wasn’t… _I_ wasn’t enough to save him from his demons.”

“You can’t save anyone from themselves. _Arthur_ taught me that. You’re not to blame. Will you ever let yourself love anyone again?”

Silver clashes with sapphire and Vanyel’s gaze becomes challenging.

“Will you ever tell your King what you feel for him? What you do for him? What you’d give up for him?”

“He already knows I’d die for him. Does one of three count?”

Slender fingers as long as Merlin’s comb the unruly hair from his wrinkled brow and smooth the lines there.

“Has anyone ever won _anything_ with such a score as ‘one of three’?”

“If I could even enter to play, I’d burn myself to cinder to win but I can’t even place a piece on the board.”

So much in common, Vanyel thinks. All the power in the cosmos at their fingertips but neither could ever have what they most wanted. Both had hearts freely given and taken away somewhere they couldn’t follow. Duty was all that held them fast to hollow life and it was unlikely to ever change for either of them.

“Will you go back?” He isn’t sure why he asks, he already knows the answer.

“Always. I’ll always return but I can yet bide here a while. I’ll not be missed unless I choose to be.”

* * *

**33**

**Warning:** Dubious consent, slight overtones D/s.   
Fusion: [Once Upon A Time](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Once_Upon_a_Time_%28TV_series%29/)

“I own your heart and I will crush it to dust if you do not do as I say,” Morgana growls and squeezes the heart she just ripped from his chest. Gwaine collapses on the floor at her feet in agony. “You're now mine, my pet. And this is your cage. From this moment forward, you will do everything that I say. And if you ever disobey me, if you ever try to run away, all I have to do is squeeze.” She puts his heart into one of the many drawers lining the room. 

“Guards, take him to my bed chamber and see that he doesn’t leave,” she orders.   
Two burly guards pick Gwaine up off the floor of the Chamber of Hearts and drag him to her bedroom dropping him in a heap on the floor. 

Morgana strolls into her bedroom two hours later. Never due to appear too eager better to make him wait. Gwaine is shackled by the ankle to her bedpost. Sitting on the side of the bed glowering at her. 

“This will never due at all,” Morgana smirks and waves her hand. Gwaine is dragged across the bed as shackles appear at each bed post securing him spread-eagled. “Much better,” Morgana purrs.

“We’ll really have to do something about this,” Morgana waves her hand again and his clothes disappear.

“Crazy bitch,” Gwaine mutters under his breath as he squirms against the restraints.   
Morgana smirks and looks pointedly at his crotch, “that doesn’t seem to be an issue with certain parts of your anatomy.”

“I never said I had the best taste,” Gwaine says slowly still testing the restraints, making his body move in a slithery slide. 

Morgana watches and licks her lips, “this is going to be fun”. She smiles and steps closer to the bed her black dress disappearing as she moves leaving her in nothing but a tight black corset.

Gwaine’s eyes go cloudy with lust as he sees her breast pushed up by the corset and her nipples hardening under his gaze. He lets out a strangled gasp as she reaches the bed and straddles his hips. Her wet pussy rubbing against his erection, she lets out a little gasp and leans forward so her nipples rub against his lips. 

“If you bite me I will punish you,” She says as she rubs her hard nipples against his lips. The scruff on his face reddening them and making them sensitive, she moans when he opens his mouth and takes one in, not sucking but just holding it in his hot mouth waiting for her to make her next move.

Morgana starts moving her hips up and down rubbing against Gwaine’s hot cock, her nipple popping in and out of his mouth with every thrust. 

“Tease,” Gwaine mumbles around her nipple lightly biting down the next time it entered his mouth. 

“Ahh,” Morgana breathes, “You’ll pay for that.” She pulls her nipple from his mouth and sits back still rubbing her pussy against his cock getting them both soaking wet. 

“Gnngh,” Gwaine groans, as he strains against his bonds. 

“You are completely evil. I will not beg,” Gwaine’s eyes are feverish and his neck straining as he tosses his head from side to side, his hips thrusting up only for Morgana to pull back just out of reach. 

Morgana leans forward the lace on her corset scratching his chest, “I think you will,” she whispers and settles back down to rub against his dick. 

Gwaine rears back and pulls against his bonds. The magical restraints not budging as he falls back to the bed breathing hard. Morgana laughs and touches his dick between them, feather light almost not there. Slicking her finger across the head of his cock gathering the pre-cum and swirling it around, she pulls her finger back and pops it in her mouth licking it clean. Looking him in the eyes the whole time, daring him. 

“You win,” Gwaine says quietly, “Please, please fuck me, please.” He writhes beneath her ready and waiting. 

Morgana smirk and lifts up impaling herself on his length. “Really, was that so bad?” she says a little breathlessly as she moves on top of him. 

Gwaine gives a strangled moan and comes almost instantly inside her. Morgana pulls off him, reaches between her legs and brings herself to orgasm.

“We’ll have to work on your stamina,” she smirks as she gets up and prepares to leave the room.

* * *

**34**

Warnings: Voyeurism, Manipulation.   
Fusion:USA Network's La Femme Nikita.

Reflexes improved nominally. Coordination was still below average. Section would have Merlin placed in abeyance already if not for Arthur saving him on more than one occasion. 

All wasn't lost though. Merlin was the embodiment of seduction and interrogation, so his last test before becoming a real field agent (or dying in Abeyance)was to get information regarding last week's failed Bulgaria mission. Arthur, the best in Section 1, led the teams involved. He never failed before and there were suspicions as to why he would sabotage his own infiltration. Things that took months to set up weren't simply tossed aside on a whim.

Merlin leaned against the wall to Arthur's private office. "Miss me?" 

They had chemistry during Merlin's training, but never quite managed to act on it.

"I don't have time for whatever you want _MER_ lin." Arthur didn't even look up from his workstation.

"Not true. You always make time for me, because I'm your favorite student."

"There are no favorites in Section. We're all expendable." 

The sentence was meant as a dismissal. Merlin needed to reveal something of interest so Arthur would ask him to stay. He remembered a phrase from his training. _'Partial truths helped to win wars.'_

"I'm going to be placed in Abeyance if I can't seduce you right here and now, so I guess you're right. I'm expendable." Merlin turned to leave the room, He was counting on Arthur's sense of honor to family and friends. Even though no one in Section had such ties. All agents were legally dead and given code names, silly things like 'Merlin' and 'Arthur'.

Merlin was nearly down the hall when a hand rested on his shoulder. It was too familiar for him to attack like his training was telling him to, and the calmness of it was false since the owner just ran to catch up.

The licking of lips was amateurish, but the cat already leapt out of the bag, might as well shred the thing so the creature never had to go back into hiding. With wet lips parted, lidded eyes, and a 'come hither-fuck me-I dare you' stare, Merlin turned around to face Arthur.

He giggled when forcibly dragged back to Arthur office in full view of the surveillance cameras, AND Operations.   
Merlin knew Arthur secretly liked it when he giggled.

"Should I leave myself open to the cameras they put in here? or will they medically check you after?" Arthur said as he pushed Merlin to the now closed office door.

"Neither and Both." Merlin pointed over to the door frame where he had left a small camera/ listening device, "and they will check me later after they drug me."

Arthur nodded. He understood how things worked better than anyone.

Fingers closed around Merlin's wrists and forced arms over his head. Hips pushed into Merlin hard and unyielding. His submission to lips however would never take place. Merlin discovered he loved kissing Arthur. Loved the taste of him at the tip of his tongue. For this pleasure he fought to keep contact. More licks to Arthur's mouth and tongue, both teased and warn with teeth. 

Merlin moaned arching into every perfectly trained muscle. Both of his wrists were pulled together in one hand. Fingers stroked down his side and found their way around his fully erect...Arthur's finger's were slick with lube. But when did he..."Oh God." Merlin groaned. 

Arthur was a professional in all aspects, undoing an additional button with the messy flick of a thumb. "Damn it! Don't stop." Merlin's pushed forward with his hips. He needed more of that twirling pull with just the slightest hint of fingernail along a vein. "Fuck."

Merlin's sex brain finally clear enough after that first orgasm for him to put some pieces together. 

Arthur knew section and it's policies better than anyone. 

Merlin was his closest student but also teetering on the edge of a rather permanent deadly dismissal. 

Merlin reached out and smashed the recording device with his fist.

"You did this on purpose. You failed your mission so you could fuck me? Save me?" The implications of real attachment within Section could get them both killed. Arthur already sabotaged a mission for Merlin.

Arthur kissed his nose, then chin. "I would do that and more for you."

* * *

**35**

Fusion: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

This was the worst day of Arthur’s life.

It couldn’t get much worse, either: The house was in shambles, there was a cut above his left eye that stung like a bitch, and he and his husband had guns in each other’s faces.

In all honesty, Arthur hadn’t really expected things to come to this. Their fighting had mostly been fuelled by a mutual sense of betrayal; each having learned that the other was a spy for a different company.

(Of course, in that regard they were both at fault for not having been honest with each other, but it was the _principle_ of the thing.)

And yet, here they were.

Part of Arthur wished he was back in marriage counselling, and his greatest regret was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex with Merlin.

But in the end, it _had_ come to this, and one of them had to pull the trigger eventually. Arthur knew it wasn’t going to be him, but he wouldn’t back down, either. He wasn’t the type.

Finally, Merlin was the one to step down, shaking his head as he lowered the gun. “I _can’t_ ,” he said, voice strained. “I can’t.”

Arthur’s grip on his gun tightened. “Come on.”

Merlin shook his head again.

“ _Come on!_ ” Arthur shouted.

But Merlin continued to refuse, and Arthur was left glaring at him, gun still firmly up until Merlin’s impatience got the better of him and he smacked the gun out of Arthur’s hand.

Arthur didn’t even have time to reprimand him before Merlin swooped in, kissing Arthur fiercely, desperately, and _God_ , Arthur had never loved Merlin’s slight height advantage more as he clutched at Merlin’s hair, kissing him back fervently.

They were both hard, and Arthur was absurdly pleased to feel physical evidence that Merlin wanted him as much as he did Merlin.

It really had been far too long since they’d last had sex.

Still, there was far too much clothing involved currently for that to happen. Merlin seemed to feel the same; they stripped down without hesitation, and Arthur was quick to push Merlin back against the wall, admiring the picture Merlin presented for a moment before he surged forward, placing his hands against the wall on either side of Merlin’s head as he kissed him again hungrily.

Merlin kissed back eagerly, his arms around Arthur’s neck, and with all the skill of a trained spy (and aided by the wall behind him for support) lifted his legs and wrapped them around Arthur’s waist.

Arthur was _more_ than ready, but his mind wasn’t so clouded by desire that he didn’t realise something very important—

“Shit, I don’t have anything.”

“It’s okay, just do it.”

“But it’s been so long since—I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Arthur? Shut up and fuck me.”

And Arthur was desperate enough to go along with Merlin’s demand.

He pressed his forehead against Merlin’s, placing a small kiss to his lips and whispering a soft “I love you” against them before abruptly thrusting up into Merlin’s body, stilling completely once fully inside.

Arthur wasn’t sure how long they remained like that; he determinedly didn’t move, pressing feather-soft kisses against Merlin’s face, trying to remember that this was what Merlin had wanted, and he didn’t need to feel guilty about it.

Eventually Merlin nodded his head, giving Arthur the go ahead, and his hands fell from the wall onto Merlin’s shoulders as he began thrusting properly, groaning lowly as he relished in the small moans coming from Merlin, the way Merlin urged him to _faster, go faster_.

Arthur never wanted to lose this again with Merlin; he never wanted to forget what Merlin looked like when he came, silently, back arching off the wall as his come splattered between him and Arthur, and how it was the most beautiful sight Arthur had ever seen.

Merlin sunk back against the wall, panting heavily as Arthur continued thrusting into him, until Arthur finally stiffened, a groan emerging from his lips as he came what felt like endlessly into Merlin.

Arthur pulled out gently, the action drawing a faint whimper from Merlin; he unwrapped his legs from around Arthur’s waist and the two of them sunk down to the floor, exchanging kisses and soft endearments.

It wasn’t so bad, really: The house had insurance, the cut above his eye didn’t sting anymore, and he’d finally had sex with his husband again.

This was the best day of Arthur’s life.

* * *

**36**

**Fusion:** The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

"Stand your ground!" Arthur shouts, straining to be heard over the dragon that circles above their heads. The beast has been mindlessly attacking the outlying villages for days now, escaping to the skies before the guards can retaliate.

Arthur's not going to let that happen again; he has his best archers ready their bows, then gives the signal. "Fire!"

Most of the arrows bounce harmlessly off the dragon's thick hide, but some manage to pierce its scales, and the ground quakes as it lands. There's no cause for celebration yet; the dragon lashes out like any typical wounded creature and lets out a fiery burst of flames.

Yet Arthur continues to advance, wiping the grimy sweat from his brow as it threatens to run into his eyes. This is what he was born to do, and if he dies doing it, it will be with pride.

In all the commotion, he almost misses the man running towards the dragon, clad only in a blue robe. The stranger raises his hands, crackling with electricity, and Arthur rolls his eyes. He holds no respect for mages; in his experience, most of them think a few tricks they learn at that forsaken college in Winterhold can replace an actual weapon.

But then the unexpected happens: the dragon roars.

 _And the man roars back_.

If there's any remaining doubt left in Arthur's mind, it vanishes when the beast is actually slain and a whirlwind surrounds the mage. Arthur's sword clatters to the ground as he realizes what he's just witnessed. "By the Nine..."

**

"I can't believe a scrawny thing like you is the Dragonborn," Arthur says as they gather around the campfire later that night. Some of his men have been injured, but Arthur knows it could have been worse. "What's your name?"

The man ducks his head down, almost as if he’s embarrassed by the attention. It’s hardly behavior befitting one who has the soul and blood of a dragon coursing through his veins.

“I’m Merlin,” he says, "and I know, but it’s true.”

Arthur knows anyone could be selected by the gods to receive such a gift. He also knows how rare it is to discover a Dragonborn in one's lifetime; his father never did, nor his father's father.

So even though he still wonders how the lanky man in front of him is the one they’ve been waiting for, Arthur will not shirk his duties. 

 

“Then, _Mer_ lin,” he says, getting down on his knees, “as Captain of the Blades, I, Arthur Pen Draig, am sworn to your service.”

**

“Are you mad?!" Arthur yells as soon as they enter the privacy of the tent, vaguely aware that their voices carry throughout the camp. “What made you think you could take on two at once?”

“I defeated them, didn’t I?” Merlin grins cheekily as he favors his good leg, the only one of the men who was injured this time. Even though Merlin is stronger than Arthur originally thought, the selfless idiot is too brash and reckless, dashing into a fight like a Khajit on a bad batch of skooma.

Arthur grabs Merlin by the arms and resists the urge to shake some sense into him. If Arthur falls in battle, there are plenty of men to take his place. But if Merlin falls, who knows when another Dragonborn would reveal themselves? “Do _not_ do that again.”

They must both recognize the desperation in Arthur’s voice, because Merlin barely whispers Arthur’s name before their lips suddenly crash together in a frenzied rush. They shed armor and clothing as they fall down onto the ground, their hands scrambling to cover every inch of each other's bodies.

Arthur uses his tongue and fingers to work Merlin open, stretching and filling him until Merlin is writhing in ecstasy. Only then does Arthur slowly slide his cock inside, treating Merlin like something fragile instead of one of the most powerful men Arthur knows.

But then there's a low rumble in Merlin's chest that commands Arthur to _move_ , and Arthur quickly complies. As he watches Merlin arch his back at every rapid thrust, Arthur understands: this is the man he will serve for the rest of his life.

And when Merlin thinks he carries the weight of all of Tamriel on his shoulders, Arthur will be there to share the burden.

**

In the night, a dragon calls out, and its mate soon answers.

* * *

**37**

Fusion with Before Sunrise

_I’ll carry you. You’ll carry me/That’s how it could be_

Gwaine noticed the guy almost immediately. He was reading a book, something arty no doubt, and curled up in his seat. Gwaine considered not sitting near him, leaving the boy perfect in his mind, but he was still stinging from Morgana’s harsh words and it wasn’t like it would come to anything. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man looked up and shrugged. 

“Do you speak English? Anglais?”

“Yeah,” He said, with a slight Welsh accent. Gwaine laughed and sat down.

###

The man’s name was Merlin and he was more than willing to listen to Gwaine’s blather. 

“Where are you heading?”

“Paris, I’m studying there. You?”

“Vienna.” 

“What’s there?” 

“My plane home.” 

###

“So, you’ve been riding the trains for weeks?”

“Yeah, it’s been nice, actually. Seeing lots of scenery and meeting lots of people.” 

“So, what, I’m just one in a long line of people you’ve charmed?”

“You find me charming, Merlin?”

Merlin flushed, fiddling with his book. 

 

###

His stop was approaching fast and Gwaine started to panic. 

“Listen, this is insane, ok? But I need to ask. Get off this train here. Come check out Vienna with me.” 

“What?” 

“I fly out tomorrow and I don’t have money for a hotel, so I was just going to wander around the town for tonight. I really want to keep talking with you. If I turn out to be a psycho, you can jump on the next train.” 

Merlin looked at him. 

“Ok.” Merlin said quietly.

“Really?” 

“I’ll get my bag.” 

 

###

“My father left my mother before I was born. I was so angry, for the longest time. Angry at my mother, for not going after him, making him stay. Angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“I had it in my head that they had a perfect relationship, and I came along and ruined it.” 

“Really?”

“I was a very dramatic teenager. My mother was so supportive, all the time, so I had to try to fuck myself up.” 

###

Merlin ordered them coffee and sandwiches in perfect French, making Gwaine hot and tingly all over.

“How did your survive before you met me?”

 _I’m not entirely sure, any more_ but what Gwaine actually said was “My roguish good looks and Charades.”

Merlin laughed, and Gwaine smiled, queasy with want.

###

“My father’s dead.” Gwaine said, words escaping his mouth in a puff of condensation. 

Merlin’s hand was cold around his.

### 

Gwaine looked up at the stars. 

“Sometimes I stay up all night for no reason, just for this part of the night.” 

“Hm?” Merlin asked, sleepy. His head was a warm heavy weight against Gwaine’s shoulder.

“This part of the night – pretty much everyone’s gone to bed, other than the people who need to be awake,”

“And insomniacs.” 

“And insomniacs,” Gwaine agreed. “And it’s just nice. Quiet. Secret, almost. Like everyone’s got a connection.” 

Merlin just hummed.

###

Merlin leaned forward, braver than Gwaine, and kissed him. Cold hands tangled in his hair and pulled him forward. Gwaine’s hands caught at Merlin’s waist. They tumbled to the grass, Gwaine squirmed at the feel of the damp grass through his shirt. 

“We could be seen.” 

“We’ll have to be quiet then,” Merlin said, tugging at Gwaine’s belt. Gwaine bit his lip at the first feel of Merlin’s breath, incredibly hot against his skin. He made a helpless noise when Merlin’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock. 

The suction was perfect, wonderful, and he might have babbled that out, fingers digging into Merlin’s shoulders. 

When he came back to himself, panting at the stars, Merlin was curled up next to him. His erection was digging into Gwaine’s thigh. Gwaine got his hands to co-operate and wrapped them around Merlin’s cock, swallowing his whimpers with a kiss.

###

They watched the sunrise together. They didn’t talk about what it meant. The walk to the airport was meandering and quiet, conversation punctuated with the occasional yawn. 

“Listen,” Merlin said, pulling a notebook out a ripping a piece of paper out. “As much as I want to do the whole ‘this is perfect, lets keep it this way and not sully it with reality’ thing, I also really like you, and I’ll be back in the UK in a few years. Here’s my email.” Merlin scribbled on the paper and shoved it into Gwaine’s hand. “Please?” 

Gwaine pulled him into a kiss. “Yes, yes.”

Gwaine would’ve agreed to anything for the smile he got in return.

* * *

**38**

Fusion: Firefly

Gwen has no doubts about what it is that draws her to Merlin. It's his quiet competency, the steadiness of his hands on Serenity's controls. It's in the way he can make her laugh despite herself even in the most dire situations, and the way he's just as responsible as Arthur is for bringing them safely from one planet to the next but he doesn't even seem to realize it.

Gwen understands all that, and while she might have once stewed over her attraction to and love for this impossible man, the years have worn away the edges of that strangeness. But what she doesn't get, what she just can't ever manage to wrap her head around is what he sees in her. She'd have pegged him as the sort of man who'd go for someone more like himself, someone quick to smile and handy with a joke. Gwen's more comfortable with guns than humor, and while she's grateful for it every day, she knows she's not the only one who doesn't really get their relationship.

The ship has just settled down after a near miss with an Alliance patrol at the dock, and most everyone has retired to their bunks to relieve the stress in their own way. Merlin's brought one of his little plastic dinosaurs from the helm and is sitting cross-legged on the bed with it, not playing, just idly fingering it with a far-away look. Gwen's got her gun disassembled and spread out neatly across the blankets. The methodical process of cleaning and oiling gives her hands a chance to steady from the rush of adrenaline, from the fear of seeing Merlin in the line of fire.

She's just wiping oil off of the stock when the hair prickles at the back of her neck and she realizes that Merlin's very quiet and very still. Even the small motions of his fingers on the dinosaur toy have stilled. He's just sitting, watching her in an attentive way that feels too much like studying, like sizing an opponent up.

"What is it?" she asks without looking up, keeping her words even and her tone neutral.

Merlin clears his throat and shifts up onto his knees, scooting closer. "Nothing."

She puts the barrel down and looks at him. He's staring at her hands, a faint furrow between his brows. "Merlin…" This time, it's a low rumble, a gentle warning. His cheeks flush pink and he busies himself setting the stegosaurus aside on their minuscule bedside table.

"Nothing," he says again, softer, yearning. "It's just…" And he reaches over, covers her hands with his where they're curled around the pieces of the disassembled gun. He catches his lip between his teeth and his eyes have a faraway look to them, and that expression is one that she knows intimately.

She likes having everything laid out neat and orderly, she finds it calming, but it takes her half a second to sweep it all aside and roll him over beneath her. His eyes are dark, his lips parted, begging for a kiss, and she can't deny him. She leans in and catches his mouth with hers, strips his clothes off just as methodically as she does everything, and smiles at the way he trembles beneath her palm.

She rides him, fingers twined together and hands pressed palm-to-palm, rides him until neither of them are anything like calm or soothed but it doesn't matter because anything beyond their room has ceased to exist. She likes the way she can lose herself in him, how he can strip away the neatness, the orderliness, and do it in such a way that it doesn't feel like a loss.

Afterwards, she retrieves the pieces of the disassembled gun and lays them out as they were before, resumes the process of cleaning and reassembling it. Merlin presses against her back, slides his palms down her arms until his hands cover hers once more. He traces his fingertips over the backs of her fingers, but when she stills, he murmurs a protest against the nape of her neck.

"Don't," he says, lips warm on her skin. "Don't stop. Gods, I love your hands."

She continues slowly, excruciatingly aware of the way Merlin watches her hands move like he can't get enough of it.

He looks at her the way she looks at him, when he's sitting at Serenity's controls and perfectly in his element, and she thinks maybe she understands everything a little better now.

* * *

**39**

FUSION: X-MEN

 

Arthur has always felt ashamed of his powers. When you’re raised by a parent who has devoted his life to fighting against mutant rights, it’s only natural to feel horror when the beginning of your powers manifest. For Arthur, his fourteenth birthday was the worst day of his life.

Morgana, of course, had been delighted. She was no longer alone. Together, the Pendragon siblings would keep their secret, right under Uther’s nose.

But where Morgana felt pride, Arthur only felt fear, and he hid his powers away. He didn’t admit it to his sister (“It’s dangerous, Morgana, why should I flaunt it?”), but he was scared of what he could do.

Sometimes, when Arthur was feeling emotional (when he watched Morgana muttering the future in her sleep, when Uther triumphantly crowed over his anti-mutant victories at the dinner table, when he thought about touching the boy next door’s cock), he thought he could burn their home down.

When Professor Gaius came to Camelot House eight months later to collect the Pendragon children, Arthur’s life changed. He went to Albion School, a sanctuary for mutants, and he was free.

But Arthur could never let go of the shame he felt when he smiled at his father and lied, again and again. 

Nothing could ever change that.

*

Somehow, a peaceful picnic on the grounds has turned into a debate about mutant politics. Arthur hates it when this happens, but most of all, he hates it when it’s Merlin he’s arguing with.

“We shouldn’t have to hide,” Merlin’s saying angrily. “We have rights too. There’s only going to more of us now; we’re not going anywhere, so everyone should just deal with that!”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Arthur argues. Merlin is so naive. Then again, he was raised by an accepting mother. Uther, on the other hand, has demonstrated all too clearly to Arthur the strength of ill will humans can bear towards mutants.

“It _is_ ,” Merlin snaps, and the plastic cups tremble. “We’re the same, but we have _more_. Cleverer people aren’t persecuted. Stronger people aren’t openly hated. Christ, even fags like me get less shit from the world!”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Gwen admonishes.

“Let him let it out,” Gwaine shrugs. “God knows he’s been wound up recently. Needs to get laid, if you ask me.”

“Are you offering, Gwaine?” Leon laughs, and then they’re all giggling like children who’ve heard a dirty joke. Except for Merlin, of course, who looks sullen and frustrated, and Arthur, wearing an expression of resigned tiredness on his face.

*

“Hey. About before... I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

Arthur shakes his head jerkily, his back to Merlin as he shuts their bedroom door. “It’s fine.”

Merlin frowns at the tense lines in Arthur’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?” He sees the shaking letter in Arthur’s hand; the burn marks on the paper around his fingertips are telling. Merlin’s instantly alert and at Arthur’s side. “What did he say?”

There are angry tears in Arthur’s eyes; he’s refusing to let them fall. “He won another case. He’s... happy. _So_ happy.”

Merlin grasps Arthur’s wrist tight, and doesn’t gasp at the burst of heat. This isn’t the first time Arthur’s burned him. Merlin’s other hand motions at the letter; it flies out of the window and shreds into a thousand pieces, immediately swept away by the wind.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispers.

Arthur nods once; tries to smile at his roommate and best friend, but all he manages is a grimace.

“You know, Gwaine’s right,” Arthur eventually says, voice croaking after the stretch of silence between them. “You need to get laid.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of Merlin. “I’m seventeen, Arthur, I always need to get laid.”

Arthur turns his head to look Merlin in the eye. “I can help you with that.”

The smile falls off Merlin’s face as fast as it had risen. “What are you talking about, Arthur? You’re _straight_. You’ve dated half the girls at Albion.”

Arthur pulls himself out of Merlin’s grasp to place a palm on Merlin’s cheek. His hand is still warm, and he smiles sadly. 

“Merlin, I’m the best liar you’ve ever met.”

*

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur murmurs as Merlin arches beneath him, legs stretching wide and arse begging for more. “I’ve wanted this since I saw you making those origami cranes fly.”

Merlin moans and bites Arthur’s arm. “That was the day we met,” he pants, mewling as Arthur gives a particularly hard thrust.

“Yes,” Arthur groans, leaning down for Merlin’s lips. “ _Yes_.”

* * *

**40**

**Warnings:** drug use, addiction, unsafe medical procedures, mentioned character death/violence  
 **Fusion:** Repo: A Genetic Opera

“Come on,” says the graverobber with his sometimes-blue-sometimes-gold eyes, smiling at Arthur and jumping over the graveyard fence. “You want to see the streets? You’d better stick with me.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Arthur objects, but the graverobber isn’t listening.

*

They clamor for him in the streets as they walk by. “Hey, magic-man, graverobber, I just need a little hit,” the words overlap and Arthur is caught in the din.

“What is this?” he asks, too loud.

“It’s the black market, kid,” says a woman coming out of nowhere, clinging on to the graverobber’s arm. She’s dark-haired, ethereal, moves like a cat and looks like one too. “Hey, Merlin, you got a little Z for me?”

“Always for my best customer. You got the money?” She hands it over, nodding eagerly, and the graverobber—Merlin—kisses her messy and deep, balancing himself on Arthur’s shoulder like it’s normal, and Arthur doesn’t realize he’s doing anything with his hands until the woman whines. When he looks down, there’s a vial of bright blue liquid being injected into her through a gun.

“What _is_ that?”

The woman moans, staggering back against the alley wall and sliding to the dirty ground, hand between her legs. Merlin just smiles. “It’s the 21st century’s cure. Where’ve you been all your life?” he asks, getting the next vial ready while everyone swarms around them, waving money, begging favors. “They’re addicted to the knife.”

“Addicted to the knife?”

“And they need something for the pain. So you put the gun against them …” He takes a man’s money seemingly at random and presses the gun against his stomach, eyes golden on Arthur’s the whole time. “And when it goes off, they’re ready for surgery.”

*

Arthur can’t go back home yet, still wondering about the mystery Blind Nim told him about, so he follows Merlin on the rest of his rounds, watching as he dispenses his Zydrate (drawn from _corpses_ , fuck, it horrifies Arthur when he realizes it), as he stops to talk to some of his customers. He palms cash to some of them, including the feline woman he dosed first, who gives him another messy kiss in thanks.

“Why do you do it?” Arthur asks when they get back to the crypt.

“Want my sob story, rich kid?” He points at his eyes. “I got this done too young, when I was stupid, and when my dad got repo’ed I paid them off doing this. And now I help them out there make their payments. What are you doing, taking the grand tour of humanity’s worst?”

“I had to see something real.” Something outside of the confines of his house where his father keeps him away from the world.

Merlin laughs. “Surgery’s as real as it gets.”

*

The feline girl crawls in the crypt window later, shaky and crying, coming down from her high. Merlin hushes her until she can speak. “Repo Man got Gilli.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_ , he told me he had a month till his payment was due.”

She cries horrible, heaving sobs until Merlin kisses her, mouth gentle on hers. She relaxes into his arms and he runs his hands over her back until she calms, and then they wander down to her arse, her thighs, to push her skirt up. When Arthur realizes what’s happening, he starts backing out of the crypt, but when Merlin catches his eyes he stops, unsure.

“I’ve got you, Freya,” Merlin says, and pushes his hand between her legs, which fall open. Arthur can’t see, from where he is, but he freezes anyway, and Merlin never looks away from him, not while Freya writhes in his lap, not while he unzips his trousers and slides inside her. His eyes flicker blue-gold-gold-blue while Arthur watches, and Arthur struggles against his arousal, his confusion, and doesn’t realize he’s drawing closer until his hand lands on Freya’s back and she’s bracketed between them.

She gasps when he touches her and comes, slumping forward into Merlin’s chest.

*

“You seem interested in the Zydrate,” Merlin says while he’s putting Freya to bed. “Want a hit? The first time’s free.”

Arthur shakes his head and backs off. “I’ve got to get home.”

“Whatever you say, rich kid.” He takes Arthur by the shoulder and kisses him, soft and sweet. “Just remember,” he whispers, “a dose of reality’s just as addictive as the Z. You’ll be back.”

* * *

**41**

Warnings: Some violence

Crossover: Sons of Anarchy

He never intended to stop in a hole like Charming, California. But when Percival saw the pair of men beating the shit out of someone at the side of the road, he slowed his bike to get a better look. It was always smart to assess before stopping and evening up the victim’s odds.

The second he saw the flash of blond hair beneath their fists, his brain stopped and instinct took over.

Neither man had a chance to pull a weapon before he broke one’s jaw and shot the other in the kneecap.

“Thanks.” 

Piercing eyes lifted to Percival’s when he offered the man on the ground a hand up. His heart stopped. _Arthur._ Except it wasn’t, of course, because Arthur was miles away, ensconced in his safe little home, living his life of secrets where the only man he allowed inside was Merlin. But this one, Jax, he said his name was, could’ve been a brother, same coloring, still had to tilt his strong jaw up to look at Percival. The only difference was the ghosts in his eyes.

Jax Teller knew loss. Percival didn’t hesitate giving him a ride into town. Or staying when Jax offered him a place to crash for the night.

One night became a month. Two. There was always somewhere to follow Jax, be there to back him up. The Sons appreciated men who knew how to get the job done without asking questions. They understood damnable loyalty. Some of them even died for it.

Percival made sure that was never Jax. No matter what it took.

“You stubborn son of a bitch.” Jax’s callused hands pressed the tape over the bandage on Percival’s shoulder blade, warm, reassuring. Grateful Jax couldn’t see his face, Percival gritted his teeth against the heat flooding through him. He was usually better at holding off his reactions to Jax’s presence, but the cloying scent of blood combined with the lingering touches of Jax’s fingers messed with his head. “I told you to get outta there.”

“They would’ve come back.”

“And we would’ve taken care of ‘em.”

“Now you don’t have to.”

“Idiot,” Jax muttered, but it wasn’t mean, never that, in spite of the face the other gangs saw, Jax didn’t have it in him. His hands dropped, their absence granting precious seconds for Percival to pull himself together.

But then coarse hairs tickled along his nape, soft lips drawing goosebumps to the surface of his skin. Percival shattered.

They clawed at each other’s clothes, ripping open button-flies, scratching at scars. Jax’s beard burned where it scraped across Percival’s arms, hungry mouth mapping the contour of muscles, teeth biting at sinew straining to fold Jax into him. The smell of leather clinging to Jax burst on Percival’s tongue when he got his turn, and his eyes burned from the sudden rush of emotion it evoked.

Jax tasted like home.

When he straddled Percival’s lap, he stroked their dripping cocks in tandem while Percival pushed two fingers past Jax’s lips. He only meant to wet them, but the tight pressure of Jax’s sucking went straight to his balls, and he groaned as he shallowly fucked Jax’s mouth. Jax was the one who swallowed him down to the knuckles, eyes blazing at the promise of what he’d do once he got his lips wrapped around Percival’s cock.

Now, though, they wanted—needed—something else, and Percival pulled free, reaching behind to bury his fingers inside Jax’s waiting hole.

Jax slammed their mouths together as he rode Percival’s hand, still devouring him when he rose up, angled Percival’s cock, sank down again with his ass stretching around Percival’s girth instead. It was tight, too tight maybe, tight enough to alarm Percival that he might be hurting him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, didn’t do anything but shudder and moan into their kisses as he took Percival all the way in.

None of their losses mattered while their bodies merged. He could give himself over to the moment, take what he’d wanted for months, forget about everything he’d craved for years before.

Jax fell apart first, warm come splattering onto Percival’s stomach and chest as he writhed against him.

Percival followed, like he always did, like he always would.

Only one name burned on his lips. Only his burned on Jax’s.

They both had ghosts, but now, maybe for the first time ever, the ghosts didn’t have them.

* * *

**42**

Fusion: Police Academy

Warning: Dub-con

“Fuck.” Merlin smacked the rentboy’s fingers as they pulled at his zip. “Stop that.” Heart beating madly, he poked his head out the door to see if the coast was clear.

A few close calls later, Merlin entered the conference room which had a door directly into the parking lot. He was five steps from getting the hooker (Gwaine, the guy had said, with a flip of his hair) out of the building and maybe, _maybe_ not getting himself kicked out of the Academy.

He darted for the door, dragging Gwaine along behind. He didn’t know who’d snuck Gwaine into the Police Academy building or paid him to wait in Merlin’s room, but getting caught with a rentboy had to guarantee a trip home.

He caught sight of a group of officers entering the room from the far door and scrambled onto the stage. Frantically looking for a hiding spot, he pushed his ‘gift’ into the large podium and ducked in after.

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed at his treatment of the hooker. He seemed nice enough. “We’ll just wait here.”

“Fine by me.” Gwaine winked and palmed Merlin’s crotch.

Merlin gasped, scrambling from the touch. “No, I’m not the customer.”

“No? Then who is, cutie?” Gwaine had a wolfish grin, like he had the best job in the world.

Merlin had to stifle a laugh. He peeked through the cracks in the wood at the front of the podium. The room was filling with people. Dread churned that morning’s breakfast in his belly as Commandant Pendragon made his way to the stage. There was no way he wasn’t going to be crucified for this.

The Commandant’s speech began, polished and clipped with his trademark stiffness. Merlin rolled his eyes and laughed when Gwaine did the same. If there was anyone who epitomised the emotionally stunted, rigid perfection of a police department bureaucrat, it was Arthur Pendragon. Merlin always wondered what it would be like to see that control slip a little.

The Commandant paused, and the sound of a zipper lowering echoed in the silent room.

Merlin shot a look over his shoulder and froze. Gwaine was grinning back at Merlin like a toddler reaching into a cookie jar not caring one whit that he’d been caught. In the next second Merlin registered that Gwaine’s hand held the Commandant’s cock.

Merlin shook his head, mouthing, “No, please, no.”

Gwaine smirked at him and sucked the head between his lips.

The dick was already stiffening, Merlin realized. It slipped out of Gwaine’s mouth and he tongued the slit like, well, like a professional. Merlin squirmed, not able to look away.

Arthur cleared his throat; Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. But Arthur didn’t pull away, didn’t call them out. He tried to continue his speech, choking over every second word. His cock thickened with every lap of Gwaine’s tongue.

Merlin’s pants grew tight. The podium smelled like sex. Arthur stumbled over his next word and it was _that_ , the cracks in Arthur’s poise, that had Merlin grasping his own cock, biting his lip to remain silent.

“This chart,” Arthur said, voice strangled as Gwaine gripped his hips, swallowing his cock like oxygen was optional. “Let’s just... look at it.” Arthur gasped. “Without words.”

Merlin stopped breathing. His rubbed his cock, rough and chafing through his uniform as he pictured Arthur standing before his peers, getting his cock sucked, his tightly held control shattering. Gwaine’s nose was smashed against Arthur’s pubes; he hummed in pleasure around Arthur’s cock.

Arthur’s hips stuttered, slamming in as he groaned.

Fist caught between his teeth, Merlin lost it, filling his boxers. He watched half-dazed as Gwaine kissed Arthur’s softening cock and tucked him back in. Then Gwaine turned to Merlin and kissed him until Merlin’s lips were swollen and his mouth tasted of Arthur.

“In conclusion.” The words trembled and Merlin was amazed Arthur had remained standing through it all. Arthur cleared his throat again. “In conclusion, the Academy is doing very well. Excellent, I would say. Thank you for your time.”

After a spattering of confused applause, the room fell silent.

As the last person left, Merlin sighed. “Wait here.”

He crawled from the podium to find Arthur leaning on a pillar, waiting for him.

Merlin knew his face was flushed, lips bruised and sticky, and his crotch had a wet spot.

But Arthur looked more pleasantly debauched than enraged, so Merlin grinned, sheepish, and gave Arthur two thumbs up. “Good speech, Sir.”

* * *

**43**

Fusion: One Direction

"Don't-" Arthur curled his fingers into the fabric of Merlin's shirt as he tried to keep Merlin from doing anything stupid, tried to keep himself from it more than that, maybe, if he was honest, because one of them had to not give in. "We can't, not here." 

They weren't even in a stall, only stood in front of the urinals, while small-town-DJs at yet another radio station waited for them to introduce the new song, the new album, the new tour, smile and talk about Arthur with Gwen and Merlin's glorious experience as unattached and happy. Meanwhile, Merlin was practically on his knees with Arthur's cock in his mouth.

"We don't have time," Arthur tried again as Merlin's fingers found their way under his shirt and into his boxers, fist tight around Arthur's cock as he jerked him and kissed him, oblivious and maybe a little turned on by the bustle of activity just outside those doors. Knowing anyone could walk in anytime. Could splash this over all the frontpages and make it headline news.

"Hate seeing you with her." Merlin practically chewed on Arthur's lips, made them ache, made Arthur want to go for Merlin's cock in turn. "Knowing you're mine."

They strolled out of the toilets with their hair only a little askew and no come stains for a change to Gwen pressing a kiss to Arthur's lips, caught on camera. Then to Elyan rolling his eyes and leading the answers in the interview a few minutes later, Percival sitting back and Gwaine running his mouth with useless innuendo. 

"It's been six, seven?, seven, months now, yeah," Arthur said in reply to a question, only narrowly avoiding looking at Merlin for confirmation and searching for Gwen behind the glass instead; Merlin who had a hickey just under his shirt collar, fingersized bruises on his hips and kept fidgeting with his arse sore from the fuck in the morning. "She's great. I love her." Arthur smiled. Merlin frowned. The interview wrapped.

Arthur and Gwen held hands outside the building, posing for the paps, as Merlin and the boys mucked about on the side, pulling faces and one-upping one another with silly stuff. Gwen leaned in closer, lips pressed to the side of Arthur's neck, then she squeezed his hand, and he leaned down to kiss her on the lips. He didn't need to open his eyes to feel Merlin glowing daggers at them both.

The ride in the car to the venue was frosty with Merlin as far away from Arthur was he could physically be in less than two square metres. They went to do the soundcheck and Merlin had Arthur cornered against a sharp bit of railing backstage only a minute in, half making him bend backwards to accomodate Merlin between his thighs and against his crotch.

"I hate it," Merlin whispered against Arthur's cheek, teeth sharp on Arthur's neck, shit at keeping the magic secret. 

Arthur saw Elyan watching, but Elyan just shook his head and shrugged and was probably about as tired as fuck as they all were of it when they didn't manage to huddle together in a too small bed and forget all the pressure for a moment.

"You know we can't," Arthur whispered back. He tried to make his hands soothing rather than frantic on Merlin's back, tried to dredge up all the logic about lasting another two years, making enough money to set them for life, and then living quietly somewhere.

Uther would kill them if he found them like this, Merlin on his knees with his face in Arthur's crotch, mouthing him through the fabric before he got Arthur's trousers down far enough to suck on his cock. Arthur's hand found its way into Merlin's hair, keeping his head there, as he thought of the headlines and the scandals, the explanations he'd have to give, the women Merlin would have to fuck like he'd had Freya to cover up Will and now him. 

Merlin's fingers were desperate as they pulled at Arthur's balls, a bit harder than quite comfortable, the hint of teeth on Arthur's cock more than a hint a bit too often, but when this was all they had when they both looked at photos of him and Gwen practically married, Arthur didn't have the heart to tell Merlin off for it.

Another album, another tour, another album after that and another tour after that, and then they'd disappear somewhere quiet. Get another flat. Live another life.

* * *

**44**

fusion - _Sports Night_

_(Interior, day but you wouldn’t know it; two gentlemen in suits, ARTHUR and GWAINE, sit at the well-lit desk in the centre of the sole stage of a televised sport programme.)_

GWAINE: Arthur.

ARTHUR: Gwaine.

GWAINE: Arthur!

FREYA _(from the control room, where she sits with MERLIN, the producer, and other associate producers and techs; GAIUS, the executive producer, stands behind them, surveying)_ : Freya!

MERLIN: Is this a game?

GAIUS: I bloody well hope so, otherwise I’m going to fire the lot of you.

MERLIN: But you wouldn’t, because this show means the world to you, and you think of us like family.

GAIUS: No, this show is very much a business to me, and I think of you all as my employees. _(leans down to the microphone on MERLIN’s desk and presses a button)_ Hope your CV is current, Pendragon.

ARTHUR: Love you too, sir.

GWAINE: Seriously, Arthur—

ARTHUR: Yes, seriously, I think Jenna Randall is hotter than Laura Bechtolsheimer and so help me God, if you take the piss out of her name on the air like you did with Kate Bush, I will throw my coffee on your lap and you won’t be able to perform—yes, I mean it that way—for a week.

MERLIN _(under his breath)_ : And if you bring it up one more time, I’m going to kill both of them and hold you hostage until you stop over-compensating, you closeted nancy-boy shirt-lifter.

_(GAIUS quirks his eyebrow)_

FREYA: Merlin…

MERLIN: Oh, good, yes, this really is a game. _(standing)_ I have an idea for another game, yeah? It’s called the ‘we have a show on the air in forty-five seconds’ game. Now, can we all act like adults for, oh, I dunno, the two minutes until the c-break? Best start small. _(shaking his head, leaning to type something on the laptop in front of him)_ Who made my wallpaper Neopets?

FREYA: You did.

MERLIN: Ah.

ARTHUR _(into the camera, but clearly to MERLIN)_ : You were saying?

CAMERA 1 OPERATOR: And in five… four…

GAIUS _(clutching at his chest)_ : Oh my heavens.

MERLIN _(immediately serious)_ : Gaius? You alright?

CAMERA 1 OPERATOR: Three… Two…

_(GAIUS whispers something into MERLIN’s ear. MERLIN gasps.)_

GWAINE _(into the camera)_ : All that and more, on tonight’s titillating show!

FREYA: I’m going to kill him.

MERLIN _(to GAIUS)_ : And you, what, FORGOT to tell us?

GAIUS _(shrugging)_ : Is it possible I forgot?

MERLIN: It’s quite possible you forgot, yes, you senile old man. _(beat; MERLIN is staring at the wall of monitors in front of him and thinking)_ And in that case… May I?

GAIUS _(gesturing grandly)_ : By all means.

_(MERLIN marches through the connecting door and onto the set.)_

ARTHUR _(to the camera)_ : …clearly the Rhinos were experiencing some difficulty in the—

_(MERLIN reaches across the desk, grabs ARTHUR’s tie, and kisses him soundly. GWAINE hoots.)_

GWAINE: I knew it! Pay up, all of you!

GAIUS: Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind… _(smiles)_ But it’ll do.

FREYA _(into the mic in front of her)_ : We’re not on the air, folks. Formula 1 went long, and OAP Gaius here forgot to tell us.

MERLIN _(whispering, into ARTHUR’s ear)_ : When the show goes down tonight, I am going to take you back to your flat and do things to you you haven’t imagined in even your wildest dreams. I’m going to lay you down and make your world rock so hard you’re not even going to remember how to spell ‘Bechtolsheimer.’

FREYA: He has a microphone on, Merlin. But thanks for that mental picture

GAIUS: Firing the lot of them.

*

Arthur is a stubborn arsehole, though. “B-E-C-H…”

Merlin huffs a laugh into Arthur’s chest, where he’s collapsed in a pile of sweat and come. “How are you not thoroughly shagged out right now?”

“I’m Arthur bloody Pendragon.”

Merlin groans. “Here we go.”

“T-O-L…”

Merlin slides two fingers through the mess, then lets them slide right down, down, down, past Arthur’s recovering cock and to his hole, which is gloriously used and messy.

He slips two fingers in unapologetically.

“Fuck!”

“Uh-huh.”

“S-H…”

“Tosser.” Crooks them.

“E-I…”

“Braggart.” Pushes on Arthur’s prostate again and again.

“ _Jesus_ fuck!”

“That’s more like it.”

Arthur’s cock pulses fitfully, and his body bows off the bed, his fingers fisting in Merlin’s hair. Merlin follows the tug and comes up to kiss him.

“M-E-R…” he feels whispered against his lips.

“Oh for the love of—“

Arthur kisses him again. “L…I…N.”

**_fin_ **


	3. Group C (with warnings)

**45**  
Fusion: Dollhouse

Arthur has loaded Delta up with every fantasy he can think of. He’s been a dungeon master, a foot fetishist, a contortionist, a slut for piss, and even a woman.

Arthur follows the rules. When Delta comes over, he hides all evidence of his life with Merlin. He knows not to confuse Delta with a past he can’t remember.

But sometimes Arthur thinks Merlin is with him, somewhere beneath the persona and the suffocating emptiness. Something about the way Delta holds Arthur’s hand as he comes or how he presses soft kisses behind Arthur’s ear as though he knows that gesture, as though it has sunk so far into his being that even the Dollhouse couldn’t wipe it away.

He says things like, “You never were any good at eggs,” when Arthur breaks the yolk _again_. Then he squints, as though surprised by knowledge he can’t source.

Arthur is surprised, too. He’s never had them program any of this into Delta’s head, never wanted him to know the things that Merlin knows. He’s never programmed Delta to love him.

*** 

This time, Delta comes to him as a Parisian escort. The truth is, Arthur’s so fucking sick of fantasy he could scream.

And he does scream, with four of Delta’s fingers up his ass. Delta, who thinks he’s Étienne, says, “I would very much like for you to fuck me now, Mr. Pendragon.”

Arthur nods up at him, watches as Delta pushes two lubed fingers into himself even as he pumps into Arthur’s ass, lips parted, a demure moan just barely emanating from his chest.

He’s perfect at being sexy, just like a high-class hooker should be, and Arthur feels terribly sad.

Delta pulls his fingers out of Arthur and pouts like he wants to keep them there. Arthur ignores the show, instead wrapping his fingers around Merlin’s—Delta’s—hips and pulling him up to hover over Arthur’s cock.

He’s still ashamed of this. After all this time, he still feels like he’s betraying Merlin with these mockeries—these _dolls_. When he comes back, will Merlin understand? Will he feel disgusted by the things his body did when his mind was trapped in a fucking box in Topher Brink’s playhouse?

Delta sinks down onto Arthur’s dick, and Arthur stops thinking about shame. He needs this, and the Dollhouse specializes in needs.

Delta fucks like a pro, all perfectly timed hitches of breath and twisting hips, until he doesn’t anymore.

He abruptly goes from telling Arthur how big and good he is to rocking silently, indulgently, as though every movement is for his own sake and not Arthur’s.

“Call me Merlin,” Delta whispers, and his French accent is gone.

Arthur wants to believe. He opens his eyes, and it _is_ Merlin. It’s the set of his brow and the jut of his lip and the way his hands curl into Arthur’s biceps.

“Fuck, baby,” Arthur whimpers, pulling his head down and kissing him.

He kisses like Merlin, the mixture of hesitation and intensity something no one could ever duplicate, manufacture, perfect.

“Call me Merlin,” he repeats against Arthur’s lips.

“Merlin,” Arthur says, and he has missed it. He has missed his lover’s name on his lips.

“Merlin, I miss you.”

Merlin kisses him again, and Arthur welcomes his tongue into his mouth, welcomes Merlin home.

Merlin fucks him slowly and deliberately, as though they’ll never do this again. His thumb brushing Arthur’s cheek and his small gasps of pleasure make Arthur feel like he’s drowning.

Merlin’s orgasm is quiet and long. When Arthur comes minutes later, it’s with Merlin’s hands cradling his face, and a too-intense eye contact Arthur can’t bear to look away from. Merlin rides him thorough it and then kisses him calm again.

*** 

Delta hesitates at the door and looks at Arthur. His hair is a beautiful mess. His expression is broken and full of longing.

Delta isn’t sure how much of him is Merlin and how much is everything else that’s been stuffed inside, but he feels Arthur’s pain as if it were his own. He thinks it’s Merlin’s, and he gives it a chance to be fully felt, for Merlin’s sake, before he shoves that heartache back into the box in his head labeled irrelevant.

“Soon,” he says, and then he leaves.

*** 

Arthur peeks through the curtains and watches Delta get into the van, his body language more confident than Merlin’s ever was.

Five years, was the contract. Only four to go.

* * *

**46**

Crossover: Doctor Who [Specifically, "[The Wedding of River Song](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wedding_of_River_Song)"]

**22 April 2011, 5:02 p.m.**

Light fingers brush the hair from Morgana's face and stroke her cheek to bring her awake. She nestles into the touch, smiling, and kisses the palm of Gwen's hand. 

"You're up early." 

"I've brought breakfast," Gwen says, "chosen your gown, and found that new flat iron I really want to try on your hair."

Reluctant, Morgana opens her eyes, then smiles to see that Gwen's stripped back down to her shift, her nipples dark and tight beneath the thin muslin. She traces the lines of Gwen's collarbones and the curve of her breasts, tugs her laughing back into bed, and thinks that she could live this moment over and over again. 

*

"I've had an email from the Holy Roman Emperor. We're to send as many men as we can spare to Londinium. Arthur, send half by horse and let the rest take the Albion Express to the capital."

When Uther makes his announcement, the throne room falls silent and still. Something flickers in Morgana's mind and catches in her chest, but before she can grasp it, movement and noise rush back into the room.

*

"Everything will be fine."

Gwen's hand tucks warmly into Morgana's as they watch the great steam locomotive disappear into a distant, fading streak of red and gold. 

"I hope so," Morgana says, but she saw the look Merlin gave Gaius in the throne room, and the odd, intimate way he touched Arthur's wrist as they boarded the train. She's dreamt of the clock in her bedroom ticking time forward instead of staying stuck at the same minute mark and her life tumbling back into the past.

She snaps a hundred photos with her mobile on the walk back to the castle and imagines each a poem, a tapestry, a symphony or a moving picture, a memory of this Camelot captured before she feels the flickering again.

*

Morgana takes one last picture as the sheet slips from Gwen's shoulder before placing her mobile aside, face down so she can't see the clock.

"Are you finally done?" 

"For now." Morgana tugs the sheet down the rest of the way and slides in close enough to press her breasts to Gwen's as they rest on the bed. A hand between Gwen's thighs finds her still wet from their last round of sex a few hours before and Morgana hums with approval. "With the pictures, that is." 

Gwen shifts one leg to let Morgana finger her, stroking around her lips and clit until her breathing starts to come in quick, short pants. 

"Wait, let me," Gwen says and nudges Morgana away to rest on her back. "I just want--"

"--I know. Please?" 

Gwen settles between her thighs and leans down to nuzzle at each of Morgana's breasts, her lips and nose tickling already sensitized skin. Morgana sighs sharply, arching up closer to the way Gwen licks around her nipples, light, soft, and teasing. She noses under the curve of Morgana's breasts, then mouths kisses down the ladder of her ribcage to the angle of her hip. 

"Please," Morgana says again. Her body yearns toward Gwen and she tries so hard, as hard as she can, to save up a lifetime of kisses and smiles, the brush of Gwen's hair against her skin and the unfurling of Gwen's fingers inside her body, the scent of sex and sweat and perfume on her sheets and the sound of her own voice saying Gwen's name.

Gwen's hands smooth over Morgana's stomach and thighs and she dips her head down to nuzzle more kisses over Morgana's mound and then between her thighs, finally licking inside her.

This moment, Morgana thinks when her climax comes, this moment is the one she'll really remember happened on the twenty-second of April 2011 at 5:02 p.m.

*

"What's wrong?" Still muzzy with sleep, Gwen puts an arm around Morgana to hold her close after she comes awake with a cry. 

"I love you. I'll find you again, I promise." Morgana kisses Gwen's eyelids and the bridge of her nose; she presses their mouths together before Gwen can reply. "I'll find you. I love you," she repeats as clock in her bedroom finally begins to tick toward 5:03 p.m. and the moment dissolves around them.

* * *

**47**  
 **Finding Home - A Being Human Crossover**  
Warning: Character death (not Merlin or Arthur’s)

The next time Merlin was reborn, there was no one to teach him his magic. The world was a magicless, dead thing, and there was no one he could even convince of his own abilities, pitiful as it might be in this new technological age. Those he did tell called him crazy and told others to avoid him, and so he learned to keep his magic hidden, keep it close and safe where no one would ever learn of it.

***

He met Annie outside her home in Totterdown. She was standing there, grey sweater wrapped around her tightly in an effort to protect herself from the chilly air. He waved politely when he saw her, and she stared at him, shock flashing across her face.

“You can see me?” she asked.

He frowned. “Can’t everyone?”

She shook her head. “Most people can’t.”

He thought that was perfectly sad, but he understood. Most people didn’t look at him either.

***

He met George and Mitchell a week later, when Annie invited him over for tea. She didn’t have any herself, and he didn’t press the matter.

He could tell there was something about the three of them. His magic yearned for whatever they were, and he found himself making excuses not to leave.

***

He cried when George asked him to move in. He couldn’t remember being so happy. Or feeling like he belonged.

***

When he received news of his mother’s death, his grief was overwhelming. His magic responded by calling down a thunderstorm that lasted for three days and flooded half of Bristol. Three people died.

“I’m a monster,” he said, panicking, trying to keep his magic suppressed so it wouldn’t happen again. “I’m a murderer.”

Mitchell laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, you’re not a murderer. And I would know.”

And so he did. Merlin sat, hours later, understanding why his magic had reached for these three, creatures of magic themselves. And even knowing Mitchell’s past, he couldn’t stop himself from embracing him tightly, whispering grateful thank yous into his ear.

“Think nothing of it, my friend,” Mitchell said, holding him just as tight.

***

“Do you ever feel like you’re looking for something? But you don’t know what it is,” Merlin asked.

Annie shrugged. “Why I died, yeah. But I guess I know that.”

“I feel like…there’s some part of me I still need to find.”

Annie looked at him. “Maybe you should start searching.”

***

He met Arthur two years later, when Arthur ran into him at a coffee shop, knocking him down and spilling coffee everywhere.

Images flashed through his mind, and he expected Arthur to call him an idiot. Instead, he bent over with a pile of napkins in one hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You’ve changed.”

Arthur looked at him, puzzled. “Have we met?”

“I think so. A very long time ago.”

***

Arthur and Merlin fell into bed together almost two weeks later. Amidst frantic, wet kisses, hushed murmurings, moans, and the feeling of being stretched too much around Arthur’s perfect cock, Merlin remembered everything – all the lifetimes, some alone, some with Arthur. He held on to Arthur’s shoulders as his climax hit him, and when he came down, stared into Arthur’s eyes, he knew Arthur remembered too.

***

“I like your friends,” Arthur said one day, when they were watching the telly while George and Mitchell were at work. Annie was in another room, allowing them privacy. 

“You should move in,” Merlin said, then froze. He hadn’t meant to say it, because it was early and even though he remembered all the previous Merlins, he couldn’t forget this Merlin, who had always been shunned and mocked.

Arthur looked at him and, just when Merlin was about to apologize, said, “I’d really liked that.”

It was Merlin’s new happiest day ever.

* * *

**48**  
 _Of all the gin-joints in all the world:_ A fusion with the Maltese Falcon

She’s the kind of girl that doesn’t stroll through Morgause’s door every day. Legs up to her chin and the most perfect thighs on the planet to match the perfect little bow of her full mouth. The kind of lady who drove men wild.

“Can I help you ma’am?” She let the title snap from her tongue like tiny bones. It’s been a slow week in the office and she had her feet up on the desk toes tapping against the air. 

“I hope so.” She replied simply and her painted lips pouted slightly. “I need information on the whereabouts of a child. I don’t know his name but he’s about 9 and I’m willing to pay whatever you’re asking.”

“Who’s got him? And why don’t you?” Salient questions, implicative answers. 

“Uther Pendragon.” 

Morgause laughed, it rippled from her throat like throwing knives-- sharp and sarcastic. “I don’t dabble in the mob, not even for a dame as pretty as you.” 

“Then you’re not a very good Dick are you?” She arched a challenging eyebrow, Morgause smirked. 

“What’s in it for me Sweet-Cheeks? Your money isn’t good enough to take on Pendragon.” If she was honest, and she never was as a principle, everything she’d done was just the lead up to taking Pendragon down. **He would ruin no more lives**. Start small, a child here, ratted out to the pigs there. Watch the empire crumble from between his greedy hands. 

“What do you want?” 

“Suck me off.” Morgause purred. _Lady_ let her lips part for a moment all pretty and painted the colour of crushed satin. “You want your boy back—make me come.” She didn’t look too surprised, but a dame as pretty as that had to be used to this kind of thing.

 _Lady_ rose, she was graceful like a dancer and just as tall, hair like raven feathers spilling down the back of her cream-coloured blouse. The way she fell to her knees was even more lovely. 

With a little shimmy she slid her bracers off her shoulders, she preferred trousers and flat shoes to the delicate lace and pearls of most gals. “Tell me your name?” Morgause traced her bottom lip with her thumb smearing the pencil-perfect line of it. “Or shall I tell you what it is?” It was a little more complicated to pull her trousers down, but she let them dangle from one foot. “Morgana Le Fey.” 

Her eyes went wide, cheeks flushing with the truth of it. “No.” 

“I’d recognize that face anywhere.” Morgause purred, she tangled her fingers in the silkiness of her hair tugging her mouth towards where she was already getting wet. “I’m curious to know what you’ve got against Daddy, girl.”Morgana would perform sometimes in Uther’s clubs, voice like an angel they said. 

Morgana let out a muffled moan when Morgause shoved her face first between her legs with both hands in her hair. She was getting lipstick all over her clean panties. Morgana’s mouth was so hot, she could feel the heat of it spreading down her thighs. 

“That’s a girl.”Morgause praised, twirling some of the thick curls between her fingers. 

Morgana had a wicked little mouth and she used it like she knew how. You didn’t get that kind of skill from singing. “You’re so good at this. Pay this way a lot?” Morgana glared up at here, sliding the elastic aside so she could slip one long finger up inside. Morgause rolled her spine against the chair, fucking herself down on Morgana’s fingers with each lazy shift of her hips. 

“Make me come, it’s part of the deal.” Morgana slid a second finger inside her and sucked hard on her clit.

Morgause came with a breathy sound, biting back a curse as Morgana kept flicking her tongue against her clit drawing it out until she was just toeing the line between pleasure and way too much. 

“Good enough?” There was a clear challenge in Morgana’s eyes as she looked up at her, mouth completely wrecked. 

“Perfect.” 

Morgana came back from the bathroom clattering on her heels hips swaying provocatively. Lipstick all fixed and perfectly in line again, it was a bit of a shame. Morgause had also cleaned up a little all tucked away back inside her trousers feet on the desk again. 

“So, will you take the case?” 

“Of course.” Pendragon had it coming and this was a good enough place to start.

* * *

**49**  
Warnings: Fusion - Star Wars

Calibrations

 

“Entering the Yavin system. Standby for system check.” Hitting another button, test lists cascaded over the holodeck. “Confirmation noted.” He rubbed a worn hand over his face and shook his head, looking out the viewports at the stars, still, spinning slowly in the murk. Yavin I loomed to the right of the ship but Arthur flipped the stabilizers and felt _Excalibur_ shudder with the strain.

He watched the consoles a few seconds before deciding he’d deal with any problems later. Now a trip to the refresher sounded nice, extremely nice. Standing, he rolled his neck, reaching to rub at the crick there as he made his way through the small freighter turned bounty hunter ship. He’d have to deal with the calibration of the cargo hold and the pressurizers soon.

He pushed the thoughts of the damage to the back of his mind as the door to the fresher whizzed open. And he stood gaping a moment. Not only was it occupied, and not locked obviously, but it held his very naked, very frustrated partner. Who happened to be fighting with the fresher’s settings while trying to utilize his broken hand to hide his hard cock from Arthur. Or perhaps his hand had been there for another reason in the first place.

It must have been the latter as startled blue eyes met his and Merlin’s hand, looking less puffy and more like a hand now, whipped away only to go back and away again. The reaction managed to startle a laugh from Arthur, who was still standing in the door like an idiot. Part of him said he should forget the fresher and go to bed because his brain really needed the break, while another told him to just jump the scrawny Jedi while he was defenseless. Not that he was much of a threat anyway, being more adept with the Force than with a lightsaber. And banned from using the hokey stuff on his ship most of the time.

Of course he listened to the jump command, and found himself in the tiny fresher with Merlin before he realized what he’d done. Until Merlin turned those eyes on him again and he realized he really needed to blame it all on being up for three days trying to repair the ship between jumps.

“Tests all done then?”

He jerked back to the present and could only stare before a (slightly insane) smile started across his face. “Running. Except one I forgot about.”

“Shouldn’t you go do-oooo-!” Merlin stared open-mouthed as Arthur’s blaster-callused fingers wrapped around him and stroked. “Wh-what are-?”

“Do you know how distracting it is when you talk while I’m doing calibrations?” Merlin stuttered but Arthur ignored him in favor of stripping the velvet flesh in his hand. “I trust there have been no complications as this is its first servicing.” What the hell was he going on about? Merlin was going to tease the hell out of him after everything.

He brought his eyes up from where they’d been staring at the command panel behind Merlin in time to see the man swallow and lean slowly into his hand. “N-no. No problems. Everything wor…working normally. But – but there have been hand…handler errors recently.”

“Oh, tell me about it.”

“Er, just…just incompetence.”

“Hm…” This game was dangerous, but he couldn’t pull himself away. “Perhaps I should make sure it’s operator error. You never know with these things.” Eyes locked on Merlin’s, he slid to his knees and brought Merlin’s heavy cock to his mouth. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t been centered on Merlin, especially recently. He’d helped him regain his strength those first couple days and hovered, just a bit. That whole time he’d acknowledged Merlin was something special and something he wanted his hands on. Literally.

And now, it seemed he might have found his ultimate bounty. As soon as he tested it out, he’d cash it in.

* * *

**50**  
 **Fusion: Magic Mike**

Percy only vaguely recalled how they’d gotten from Xquisite to an apartment on the other side of Tampa. The chick he’d gone home with—a hot blonde named . . . Mithy? Mathian?—was sucking him like a lolly while on the other side of the couch, the Kid was getting his dick inhaled by a cute brunette. The girls had been down to the club for a night out and stayed after closing to hit them up at the bar. They’d all gotten drunk, the girls feeling up all the places they weren’t allowed to touch during the show, not that Merlin and Percy were complaining. 

Jesus, Merlin was having a great time, eyes honed on the place his cock was disappearing. The Kid had pouty lips that the ladies loved. It was quite a sight, but Percy lost focus when the blonde kneeling between his legs did a little swirl right over his dickhead with her tongue. He let out a soft gasp and fed his cock back into her mouth with a steady hand, thrusting up a little to get it further inside. It was impressive, how much she could take; he was a hellavua lot more than a mouthful. Mithy-whoever was getting off with one hand down her panties. 

“Shit, yeah,” Merlin said, his voice hoarse. When Percy glanced up, the Kid was looking right down at where the blonde was working him over. He must have noticed Percy’s eyes on him, cuz he looked up. It felt weird but kind of good, and Percy was just drunk enough not to break the stare. He smirked instead. 

Merlin used his hands to guide the brunette’s head as she bobbed up and down, his gaze darting back and forth between her and Percy. Occasionally Percy caught a glimpse of Merlin’s shaft—kid’s pants were loaded, which was one of the reasons why Gwaine’d hired him on in the first place, cuz he couldn’t dance for shit. Chicks dug the grungy, cheeky-shy vibe he gave off, and they loved his package most of all. Percy’d seen it before, but never like this. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.

Just then the blonde looked up, caught him staring over at his bud. She giggled. 

“So,” she said, “you and your friend ever get up to anything naughty? You know, back stage?” 

Percy stroked her hair, trying to think of a way to answer. He’d had a few experiences with guys, but never at work, and never with Merlin. The Kid was like his brother or something, but he couldn’t deny the thought of fucking around with Merlin made Percy’s cock twitch, wanting more attention than it was getting. 

“Nah,” he said. 

“Do you want to?” she asked, eyes bright. “It would be hot.” 

Merlin and the brunette were looking over. The Kid had a horny, heavy-lidded stare. He licked his lips and Percy shrugged.

“Maybe,” he told her. Then to Merlin, “You up for it, Kid?”  
Instead of answering, Merlin moved over, shuffling awkwardly with his hard cock out and his pants around his knees. He flopped down close enough for Percy to feel his body heat, and then pressed up against him, the hair of their thighs rasping together. 

“You’ve got a huge dick, dude,” he told Percy. Then he laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” Percy asked. The two girls were sitting closer together now, watching.

“Nothing. I’ve just never touched another guy’s junk.”

“Don’t have to,” Percy said, though he was already thinking of the things he wanted to do.

He didn’t know if it was the beer talking, but Merlin said, “I want to. You’re sexy as hell when you dance. I’ve . . . thought about it.”

The revelation made Percy bite his lip and gaze down at Merlin’s cock protruding from a thick nest of pubes. He could smell the musk and sweat of it. 

“Oh my God,” murmured one of the girls when Merlin wrapped his hand around Percy’s shaft. The touch wasn’t at all hesitant, and Percy watched as Merlin gave his cock a pump. His balls drew up tight with a heavy load. 

The blonde girl turned her head and kissed the brunette and that was that—the girls started going at it, giving them a show. 

“Wanna . . .” Merlin said into Percy’s neck, hand working faster. “Wanna see this big cock come.”

 _Jesus, what a dirty mouth,_ Percy thought as he started to spurt.

* * *

**51**

Fusion: Inuyasha 

There was really nothing like medieval Britain to make him appreciate all the modern trappings of the twenty-first century. Flush toilets, for one. Electricity. Mobile phone reception – especially mobile phone reception. It felt odd not to be constantly checking his phone for Twitter or Facebook updates when he was _here_. 

“Remind me once again why we’re looking for pieces of this Holy Grail thing?” Arthur asked, sighing.

“You broke it, remember?” Merlin replied. He sounded distinctly unconcerned as he poked about their stew for that night’s dinner. Rabbit. Again, though it did smell quite delicious. 

That was for him. Later, Merlin would take his own dinner from… well, him. It made his face heat just to think about it.

~*~

The first time they met, Merlin had been trapped in a tree. In the process of running for his life from an angry gryphon, Arthur had pulled the sword embedded in the middle of the trunk free, awoken him, and demanded that he save him from being eaten. It had been a rather inauspicious start.

The aftermath had _not_ been pretty. Merlin called him all sorts of names, and then proceeded to sleep with half the village boys that night.

~*~

It’s been three months since he fell through the old well that brought him into the Dark Ages. He had been terrified at first, naturally, but after he realized this was _almost_ like being in Doctor Who, it became a lot less scary and more exciting.

Until he broke some old cup, that is. Now, he’s schooling by day and using his nights and weekends to look for the pieces, all to great peril to his life. For the Greater Good. There were no perks in this timey-wimey business.

~*~

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed into his ear, sending shivers up his spine, “I need to eat.”

He reached into his bag for a convenient, travel-sized tube of lube. Merlin took it from him, their fingers brushing, causing a jolt to go through Arthur. It always happened like this – Merlin’s demonic magnetism making Arthur burn for it, his cock growing heavy quickly even for a teenager, wanting to touch and be touched, all at once.

Merlin prepared himself with lubed fingers while Arthur lay on the bedroll watching, a hand already pulling languidly at his cock. Not for the first time he thought that Merlin looked like one of the fey, the fire lighting up his pale skin and turning his eyes a deep gold. _Sinful_ , he thought somewhat hysterically as he ran a hand over his own chest, pinching at a nipple.

“I’m ready,” Merlin said as he climbed onto him and sank down on his cock. 

The warmth and snugness was always incredible. Arthur marveled at how he managed to remain this tight. Sometimes they switched roles, but he _had_ to bottom a few times every week at least, what more a cambion who had been alive for centuries. 

His inane thoughts came to a screeching halt as Merlin started to _move_ , sliding up and down and moaning like a regular porn star.

~*~

So, alright, maybe there was one perk. Merlin the Cambion was very good at sex. But it was his profession – lifestyle – thing, that was a given. Still, it was something he couldn’t complain about.

* * *

 **52**  
Warning: Existence of slavery, Fusion with Yaoi anime Ai No Kusabi ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ai_no_Kusabi)  
Title: That moment 1/2

 _His gang…All of them…Fucking Arthur…_ Merlin punched the wall and watched as the cascading water washed away the blood. _He should have known… That job reeked of foul play._ Merlin left the shower and entered the main room, toweling his hair absentmindedly. "Hello Merlin." Merlin froze as he heard that voice, a voice he hoped never to hear again. "What are you doing here Arthur?" He snarled; turning around and glaring at the knight. "Merlin…" Arthur's voice was smooth and silky as always and Merlin took a step back, and another as Arthur moved forward, removing his upper coat. His knees bumped into his bed and he fell backward. "I hope you haven't mistaken me," Arthur's lips curled in a satisfied smirk. "I said you will get _one_ year of freedom, but you have always been and will always be _my_ sorcerer." Merlin's eyes widened as Arthur removed his gloves and revealed the ring. "What have you got to fear?" Arthur cooed as he pulled out the cock ring, his left hand gripping Merlin's hair and his right pushing the robe off Merlin's shoulders. "You are mine." He whispered as he leaned down and tugged at Merlin's limp cock, rubbing it slowly and coaxing it to life. Merlin refused to utter a sound as he bitten into his lower lip, drawing blood. Leaning closer Arthur licked the blood slowly off his jaw, trailing the sharp bones with his tongue and gripping Merlin's hair tighter. "Say it," He muttered as Merlin's finger's gripped his shoulder in a white knuckled grip. "Well?" "Fine," Merlin gasped. "Do it." Arthur's dark chuckle was the last thing Merlin heard before his mind was overcome with ecstasy. 

&&&

"Merlin?" Will's voice was soft. "It's not your fault." Will said and Merlin shook his head. _"I can't see," Arthur's dark whisper caressed Merlin's skin and he bit his lip to stop the moans that tried to escape. "Spread your legs my little sorcerer and let me see." Merlin did as he was told, sending a glare at the Blondie knight sitting before him, drinking casually even as his eyes burned with heat._ "It really is." He said and left the house. 

&&&

"Seeing you here," Arthur's voice carried on the wind. "It's like you never left." "Don't give me that shit," Merlin glared at him. "I never had a chance." Arthur's hand gripped his forearm tightly and he lifted defiant eyes to stare at the knight. "That's right, no matter what they say or who you are thinking about, as long as you have the ring you are mine." Merlin's response was swallowed by Arthur's lips, sudden, demanding and oh so familiar. _Merlin trashed against the bindings as Arthur's maddening tongue pressed against his slit again and again, sending hot waves of pleasure through him. "Arthur…!" Merlin moaned and lifted his hips up, pushing further into Arthur's wet, tight heat, swallowing hard when knowing; sharp blue eyes glanced up at him. Another moan and Arthur was pulling away, twisting the ring on his finger and tearing a tormented scream from Merlin as his cock ring tightened. In a swift move Arthur entered his already abused hole and started fucking him in deep, lingering thrusts that tore more screams and moans from his lips. With deadly precision Arthur hit his sweet spot every time, his eyes dark and possessive as he stared at Merlin's. Letting out another scream Merlin was turned on his stomach and Arthur slide right back, gripping Merlin's hair and lifting his head to his, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. "Let me go…" Merlin sobbed; his mind numb from pleasure. "Not yet," Arthur mumbled against his skin. "It's not enough, never enough."_

&&&

"If I told you I loved Merlin, would you laugh, Leon?" Startled green eyes met confident blue ones.

&&&

"I'm Arthur's sorcerer." Merlin said quietly. Will's bruised face contorted in shock. "What?" "For the last three years I've been his sorcerer," Merlin sighed. " I thought he sat me free but…" _"One year…I'll be waiting for that moment. The moment that you will truly become mine…"_

&&&

Explosions tore the walls around him and Arthur hoped that Merlin made it alive out of the death trap that Will sat. A figure appeared through the smoke and Arthur's eyes widened. "Merlin…Why?" "Thought you might be bored on your own." Merlin shrugged and sat down near Arthur. Wrapping his hand around Merlin Arthur pulled him closer. "Mine." "Yours."

* * *

**53**  
 **Fusion:** Community. More specifically S03E04 - Remedial Chaos Theory

“Starting on my left with one. Your number comes up: you go get the pizza.” Arthur rubs the die between his fingers. 

The group seated around the table groans and Merlin smirks. “Just so you know; you’re now creating six different timelines with six different consequences following the number you roll.”

“Of course I am, Merlin,” Arthur says flatly and throws the die. 

*  
 **one**  
Gwen relents without a fuss. The cheering stops when the door falls closed and it’s quiet for a moment as Merlin catches Arthur’s eyes over the table and Arthur winks, his smile growing. 

“If you two have sex on the table I’m going to hurl,” Gwaine says loudly and laughter erupts. 

Arthur looks away with flushed cheeks and Merlin’s eyes drop to the table.

**  
 **two**  
The last they saw of Gwaine was his middle finger as he disappeared out the door and he’d left the group chatting quietly. Everyone were lost in conversation and Merlin found himself able to slink off into the bathroom, his head too full of the wank fantasy he’d had about Arthur earlier to even function properly in conversation. 

He almost thinks he’s still fantasising when Arthur slips inside, his eyes finding Merlin quickly as he moves forwards, taking Merlin’s face into his hands and pressing their lips together. It’s _amazing_ until Morgana throws the door open with a bang and they jump apart. 

***  
 **three**  
Merlin looks at them across the room, his body feeling heavy and almost foreign. Gwen leans into Arthur and laughs as he whispers something into her ear. The smile on Arthur’s face is blinding and Merlin wants it for himself. He wants to bottle it up and keep it forever. And yet, the smile is for Gwen and all Merlin wants is for Lance to return with the pizza. 

****  
 **four**  
“And I didn’t mean to make her angry at me, you know?” Elena says, flailing her hands a little. “I was just trying to be honest, but I think she hates me now. Do you think she does?”

Merlin stares longingly over at Arthur, wishing he’d been quick enough to get his attention when Morgana had left the seat open when she went down to get the pizza. Instead Elena had nabbed it and is currently outlining a very long misunderstanding with Morgana. 

“It’ll be fine,” Merlin says, his eyes once again straying to Arthur.

******  
 **five**  
Merlin had been as quick as he could, running down the stairs and down to the main entrance to pay the pizza guy. He made a joke about different timelines created by Arthur’s die-rolling and the pizza guy had looked at him with wide eyes. 

“ _Dude_! There are different timelines?!”

When Merlin comes back they descend on him like a pack of hyenas. 

“Excellent pizza-getting skills,” Arthur says close to his ear and Merlin feels like Arthur just told him he’d hung the moon.

*******  
 **six**  
Elena had asked him to get her another beer before she ran off downstairs and Merlin heads into the kitchen, moving slightly to the beat of the music Elena had put on before she left (“Roxanne!”). When he comes back into the room everyone’s dancing, throwing their arms up and laughing at each other. 

Merlin sidles up to Arthur and beams, jumping up and down as they sing along (“You don’t have to put on the red light!”). They smile widely, moving closer until Elena pushes in between them with the pizzas and laughs, swaying her hips.

-  
 **seven**  
“Wanker!” The group had chorused as they realised Arthur had devised a system where he never had to get the pizza since he’s person number seven. 

He’d just laughed at them, saluting mockingly when they forced him to go instead of throwing the die. Merlin figured he needed to make sure Arthur didn’t mess up the food. 

“What about the pizzas?” Merlin says now, pressed against the wall in the hallway where he’d caught up with Arthur. 

“You really want to talk about this now?” Arthur asks, looking up at Merlin, his hand slowing slightly on Merlin’s cock. 

“Hngh, _no_.”

Arthur smirks and takes Merlin into his mouth, closing his lips tight around him until Merlin’s head falls back against the wall. His heartbeat thunders in his ears when Arthur seems to try to suck his brains out through his cock. 

“Fu-uck, _Arthur_ ,” he says to the beat of _Roxanne_ coming from the flat down the hall. 

He really needs this to be the real timeline.

* * *

**54**  
 **Warnings:** Canon!AU with modern ideas/language.  
 **Fusion:** Swingers, more specifically inspired by this scene.

Big Fucking Wildren  
“We’re out of mead, my friend,” Leon said, leaning toward Percival. “Your turn.”

But as Leon spoke the words, Arthur watched Percival and Gwaine nod at each other and get up from the table. They had their eyes set on a couple of barmaids across the room. “Maybe the king should get this round,” Gwaine said and didn’t leave time for an answer before pulling Percival with him.

Arthur rolled his eyes - he was doing a lot of that tonight - and got up. Leon tried to stop him with a slurred, “But sire,” but Arthur brushed him off. It was only right; they’d been trying all night to make him feel better. The least he could do was buy them some mead.

At the bar, Arthur clunked down their pitcher, but the barkeep didn’t look too motivated to fill it. Even for the king. Arthur sighed and sat down at the bar. He’d just wait.

“Rough night, your highness?” Merlin’s voice broke into his sullenness and he slid into the seat beside him.

Arthur wanted to blurt out all his insecurities and pain at Merlin (again), but stopped himself. There was something about Merlin just then - the way he looked, his body language - that told Arthur now would be a good time to be less unicorns and rainbows and more wildren.

( _”You’re a big fucking wildren, Arthur,” Gwaine said._

_“Yeah, with big fucking teeth,” Percival added._

_“And you’re trying to go after that little bitty jackrabbit, but you don’t know how.”_

_“With your big fucking teeth.”_

_“Yeah, and you sorta bat that jackrabbit around because you’re so awkward.”_

_“With all your talk about unicorns and rainbows.”_

_“Friendship tip, mate.”_

_“But you wanna love the jackrabbit.”_

_“You wanna get_ busy _with the jackrabbit.”_

_“So go be that wildren, Arthur.”_

_“Be the fucking wildren.”_

_“And get the fucking jackrabbit.”_

_“Get busy with the jackrabbit.”_

_“You’re so fucking gold, you don’t even know it.”_ )

Arthur hadn’t really understood that conversation until now. “It’s looking up,” Arthur responded, giving Merlin a little smile. Arthur was pleased to see Merlin smile back.

*****  
Back in his chambers, Arthur had his manservant pushed up against the door, thigh pressed between his leg and mouth attached to his exposed neck. It was such a long, beautiful fucking neck. How had Arthur not noticed before?

Merlin pulled on the tips of Arthur’s hair and a groan broke through their harsh breathing. Arthur wasn’t sure which of them made it, but he wasn’t embarrassed to think that it was him. He had wanted this - wanted _Merlin_ \- for longer than he cared to admit. Maybe he’d wanted him all along. How had he not noticed before?

“Fuck, Arthur,” Merlin breathed, his head thunking against the door. “Fuck you, you need to fuck me. Now.”

Arthur wasn’t going to argue with that logic - even if it wasn’t logic of any kind - and grabbed Merlin’s legs, hoisting them up around his waist. Their cocks rubbed together, catching on their breeches, the pleasure making Arthur bite down on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Fuck this,” he said and dropped Merlin’s legs. He grabbed the laces of Merlin’s breeches and pulled, ripping them apart and pushing them down his legs. He flipped Merlin around, pressing his front into the door with his body and said into his ear, “Want you. Want your arse. Gonna fuck you so good.”

Merlin moaned into the wood and breathed, “Yes.” Arthur undid his breeches quickly, and without readying Merlin, he shoved his cock into his arse in one thrust. However, when he expected dry heat, he found a wet, tight hole welcoming him. He nearly came then.

“Wanted you for so long,” Merlin said, a smirk on his face. Arthur grinned and fucked him senseless against the door.

*****  
Outside, Leon, Gwaine and Percival listened to the moans and groans coming from Arthur’s chambers. When a loud shout of, “Fuck, Arthur. Fuck me with your giant fucking cock!” rang out, the knights turned to each other and high-fived.

“So fucking gold,” Gwaine said and palmed his cock. “Let’s go find some beautiful maidens.”

* * *

 **55**  
 **Crossover:** Stargate: Atlantis

 

The Stargate's rings had locked on the last symbol when all the power in Albion went out.

" _Merlin!_ " The culprit ran down the stairs from the operations floor, his skinny arse disappearing down the corridor. Arthur hiked his semiautomatic a little higher and angrily tapped his comm unit. " _Mer_ lin. What did you do now?"

"It's the thing again!" Merlin answered breathlessly.

Arthur tried not to smirk -- he'd been waiting for this to happen for _weeks_. He dismissed his team. "At ease. I'll be back in ten."

Arthur found Merlin in the generator room, which was where Arthur should have looked first, because that was the room that generated the power that _they currently didn't have_.  
In the fluorescent-blue glow of several strategically-placed torches, Merlin was untangling neon tubes and throwing a coil of cable over his shoulder.

"Please tell me you did this on purpose," Arthur said. He marched into the room and slid a hand up Merlin's shirt. 

"Woah! Quit it! I _told_ you -- I'm working on it!"

"On what, avoiding me?"

"The power problem."

"You said _again_. Is it the same problem as last time?"

"Um... maybe?" 

Arthur grinned. Merlin had absolutely no excuse now. Arthur marched forward; Merlin retreated, and in four steps, Arthur had Merlin between the ZPMs, flat on his back. "And we don't have any power, because...?"

"We... ran out?" Merlin suggested hopefully. He tried to get up, but he was trapped, exactly where Arthur wanted him. Arthur stepped into the space made by Merlin's flailing legs and leaned down.

"You guessed it would last for a month," Arthur said. The blue light shadows and the black cable holding Merlin down were doing _things_ to him. Arthur licked his lips. 

"It's been a month already?" Merlin's thigh brushed Arthur's cock. Arthur moaned. "Um -- Arthur? Are you --"

"So fucking hard for you that I'm going mad?" Arthur ran his hand up Merlin's leg, kneading the lean muscle until he reached Merlin's groin and felt an erection as hard as his own had become. "You've been avoiding me ever since --"

"I've been trying to figure this out," Merlin protested, but his hips grinded under Arthur's palm. Arthur yanked at Merlin's trousers until they split open and stroked drops of pre-cum down Merlin's long cock. He collected a bead of it on his thumb and wiped it on a nearby ZPM. It glowed a feeble amber.

Who would have thought that their come possessed the necessary material to power the ZPMs? Not Arthur, that's for sure. They only found out by accident after Arthur's come had dripped from Merlin's chin and onto the module after that one, hasty hand job weeks ago. 

"No one else has the gene for this! I checked every--" Merlin gasped. Arthur quickly put his gun aside, shrugged out of his vest, unbuckled his belt, and shimmied his trousers down. "--one. I checked everyone!"

Arthur straddled Merlin's hips. The shock of aligning their cocks together robbed him of the capacity for speech, and he had to pause until he did.

"I thought you were the genius, Merlin. It's an easy solution. We could've just fucked every day like I wanted --" Arthur sucked at Merlin's lower lip while half-rutting against, half-stroking the two of them together. Merlin moaned, his head falling back. 

The pre-come slicked the way, though Arthur knew he shouldn't waste it. He watched their cocks in the dim light, perfectly aligned, angry, red, hard. Arthur stroked them this time, since Merlin's hands were otherwise occupied.

"Build up a supply --" Arthur bit out. He smothered Merlin's argument to the contrary -- there was _always_ an argument to the contrary -- with a rough kiss. "We'd have perpetual power. Never have to worry --"

He twisted his wrist. He tightened his grip. His touch was feather-light. He sped up.

Merlin -- the little git -- climaxed first in a gorgeous arch of spine, his bare belly covered with ropes of their come. They panted for breath while Arthur smeared it on the ZPMs. One by one, they lit up, the power hummed, and the lights came on in Albion.

"There wasn't anything about this in the Archives," Merlin said glumly, propped up on his elbows while Arthur dressed and donned his equipment. "And it's not scientific."

"Well, if it works..." Arthur leaned in for a quick kiss. "Why fix it? I'll see you when I get back."

* * *

**56**  
 **fusion - the big bang theory**

 

Merlin was mostly happy with his existence as a socially-awkward scientist who lived with his genius best friend and spent most Friday nights arguing over whether to watch Battlestar Galactica or Stargate: Atlantis. He didn’t even mind Edwin and Gilli being over constantly, or the fact that he didn’t have all that much sex (well, he didn’t mind _much_.)

And then Arthur Pendragon moved in across the hall.

~*~

He was _gorgeous_ , blonde and toned with stupidly blue eyes. So naturally the first thing that Merlin said when he bumped into him on the landing the day after he moved in was,

“Did you know that Sergei Avdeyev is a fraction of a second younger than he should be because of the 747 days he spent in space?”

Blondie blinked at him.“Um, who?” he asked.

“Sergei Avdeyev. He was a Russian cosmonaut.”

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the last syllable. 

“I’m Merlin, I live across the hall,” Merlin offered after a moment of awkward silence. And then Blondie grinned, a huge, sunny smile that made Merlin’s heart thump.

“Arthur Pendragon. I’m an actor,” he said, then his smile dimmed slightly. “Well, trying to be.”

Arthur offered his hand, and it was warm, firm and attached to the most beautiful bicep Merlin had ever seen.

Oh God.

~*~

Arthur was also a prat.

"So you're pretty smart."

"I have a PhD in particle physics that I earned at 21."

"That's a yes?"

" _Yes_."

"No need to be snippy about it."

“I’m not being - ”

“Are you smarter than Will?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Wha- well, no, but he’s - ”

Arthur started laughing and Merlin couldn’t decide if he wanted to smack him over the head or kiss him on that gorgeous, grinning mouth.

A bit both, really.

~*~

They were friends, somehow, despite having almost nothing in common. 

Arthur could be found on Merlin’s sofa most Saturday nights, when he wasn’t off shagging totally unsuitable men (seriously, Gwaine had _stolen his television_ ). He hung out with him (and Will, Edwin and Gilli, but Merlin liked to think it was mostly him), ate leftover Thai and bickered over what to watch.

And one night, drunk on too much Tequila and a bad breakup, Arthur leaned over and kissed him sloppily before falling asleep on his shoulder, and Merlin decided this was worth holding out hope for.

~*~

Arthur fucked like a _champ_.

“Harder, nguh, _harder_ ,” Merlin moaned, knees planted in the mattress, pushing back against Arthur’s cock.

“Stop that,” Arthur growled, gripping his hips tightly and holding them still. When Merlin obeyed, he slid his hands down to curl around the top of Merlin’s thighs. He started to move again, fucking slow and steady. He wouldn’t speed up, no matter how much Merlin begged, his stamina unbelievable.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , Arthur,” he gritted out, reaching down to wrap a hand around his cock. Arthur batted his hand away.

“Jesus, Merlin, I’ve never heard you swear before,” Arthur said, panting.

“Maybe if you fucking moved a bit faster, I’d - ”

Arthur pulled out and next thing, Merlin was flat on his back, Arthur pushing his thighs up, dick nudging at Merlin’s hole. He spared Merlin a smirk before he drove into him, and Merlin cried out, hands reaching out for Arthur’s shoulders. He pulled him down and kissed him, mouth clumsy, fingers digging into Arthur’s back.

“Come on, Merlin, wanna see you come,” Arthur groaned, his hips moving frantically, hand slipping between their bodies to wrap around Merlin’s cock.

It only took a few pulls for Merlin to come, slick between their bellies. Arthur kept fucking him, right through it, until Merlin was certain he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week, and then he came, _finally_ , and collapsed right on top of Merlin.

“You’re heavy,” Merlin grumbled, futilely attempting to move Arthur off him.

Arthur grunted, but rolled over, pulling out and stripping the condom off. He disposed of it and snuggled back into Merlin’s side. Actually _snuggled_.

Merlin smiled, kissed him, and fell asleep.

~*~

“You have Star Wars sheets.”

“Yes, well - ”

“ _Star Wars sheets_ and you’re over the age of twelve.”

“Star Wars was a brilliant piece of filmmaking, okay? George Lucas - ”

“Oh my god, I’m dating a total nerd.”

“How is this news to you, Arthur, you - wait, dating?”

“Yes, you dolt, that’s what it is when two people hang out all the time and also have sex.”

“Oh.”

“Alright?”

“Alright.”

* * *

**57**

Fusion: Sailor Moon

Merlin woke up when he felt something wet touch his cheek. He looked up and found his Prince's eyes staring back at him. Arthur's ridiculous spandex suit was replaced with one that was almost as fine as Merlin's own.

"Arthur, it's you," Merlin said as he reached out to cup Arthur's cheek. The world shattered around them and they were transported to memories of the past. 

+++

Merlin had been engaged to Arthur. Arthur was the great moon prince and they had faced such a terrible enemy. The Sailor Knights had fought alongside him to protect the Prince, but they were overpowered and ambushed. In a final desperate act, Arthur's parents and Nimueh had worked powerful magic to send their souls back in time and place them on the Earth to be raised as humans.

The final night Merlin had snuck into Arthur's room to steal a kiss; the lights from the battle outside had been enough to cast the room in a warm glow. Merlin had been robbed of that last kiss when Nimueh crashed into the room and shoved them apart. She'd stuck a pendant in Arthur's hand and Merlin screamed as Arthur vanished in front of his eyes.

"I'm saving you. You'll remember when you need to," Nimueh had said before she forced another pendant into Merlin's hand.

+++

Merlin gasped for breath when he came out of the memory. Arthur was staring down at him with a look of utter disbelief.

"Emrys," Arthur said, "You're. I- I'm."

Merlin forced himself up from Arthur's lap and kneeled in front of him. He cupped Arthur's chin and forced Arthur to meet his eyes before leaning in and kissing Arthur's rough lips. Arthur pushed back into the kiss and they fought for dominance. Their stubble burned over soft skin as they sank deeper into each other.

"Finally!" Gwaine, the Knight of Strength, yelled from the background and brought Merlin and Arthur back to reality.

"I knew I'd find you," Merlin said when he pulled away.

"I've been here all along, blockhead," Arthur replied and Merlin grinned back at him.

"Guys, we're still in the middle of a battle," Lancelot, the Knight of Loyalty, reminded them.

"Right. Okay," Arthur said as he shook his head, "Merlin, you're with me. Gwaine, Lance, and Percy, I want you to cover the exits. Elyan and Leon, you'll be our back up."

"Yes, my Prince," the Knights and Arthur replied.

+++

The battle had been won, but there were more battles to come in this war. More of their enemies would be arriving and if Merlin and Arthur ever wanted to see their kingdom come to fruition they'd all have to train and become more powerful. That could wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, Merlin wrapped his arms more firmly against Arthur's midriff as Arthur squirmed in his sleep. He smiled in content as Arthur rubbed his face into Merlin's chest.

"Stop thinking so loud," Arthur complained his voice husky from sleep as he refused to open his eyes.  
"I'm trying. Sorry," Merlin replied. He stroked Arthur's back soothingly.

"Ugh. I apparently need to tire you out some more." Arthur said and looked up to glare playfully at Merlin.

"Maybe," Merlin's reply was mumbled incoherently against Arthur's lips.

"We are always sleeping naked. Saves time," Arthur said, pulling away from the kiss and reaching over to the bedside table.

Merlin spread his legs as Arthur reached a hand between them and played with his balls. He pushed back against the finger that Arthur trailed down to his entrance.

"I'm still loose from earlier," Merlin said as he bucked against Arthur and was pleased to find Arthur already hard against his stomach.

"Right," Arthur replied and kissed Merlin again. Merlin soon felt Arthur's cock pushing inside. He was loose, but he wasn't as well prepared as the first time and there was a slight burn to it that reminded Merlin he was alive.

"We finally found each other," Merlin broke the kiss briefly to mumble. Then, they were lost to their pleasure. Merlin moaned and writhed while Arthur pushed in and out of him in a stuttered rhythm that wasn't quite enough for Merlin.

Merlin stuck a hand between them and fisted his cock as Arthur lost himself in the rhythm. Arthur finally collapsed on top of Merlin with a grunt and Merlin gave him a few seconds before he pushed Arthur off.

"I hope you aren't going to make a habit of that," Merlin said. Arthur laughed and climbed to his knees and wrapped his mouth around Merlin's cock.

"Nevermind," Merlin said when he found his orgasm.

* * *

**58**  
Warnings: Incest  
Fusion: Game of Thrones (show, not book)

Arthur hasn't been home in nine years, but he's sure that he'll be welcomed back to the Iron Islands like the prince he is, he prince he was before being taken away by Cenred, the prince he will be once more after Uther is made king again.

His ship docks and Arthur clutches the message from Cenred tightly in his hands. _This_ is why he is here. _This_ is what will restore his family to its rightful place on a throne.

Once he's on land, a pretty, strong girl approaches him and offers him a ride up to Camelot. She calls him "Lord Pendragon" and something flares in Arthur's stomach - a strange combination of nerves and excitement and lust and bravado.

The ride isn't long, but Arthur finds that he needs a bit more time to gather himself before facing his father for the first time in so long. He tells the girl to slow down and she does, a knowing smirk on her face.

"You should give me the reigns," he says to cover it up. "I'm a better rider than you."

It's not exactly true and she seems to know it.

"Been on horseback for the past nine years," he explains needlessly. She knows who he is and where he's been.

"Nine years and you still know your way around a ship? Have these hands ever touched a rope?" She lifts one of his hands off her hip and holds it, pretending to examine it.

"Don't you worry about my hands," Arthur says. He gropes her easily and she looks over her shoulder, smiling at him.

The breeze from the sea is cold and harsh on his face and his bare hands, but the girl's skin is hot beneath his touch. He undoes the laces on her shirt and dips his hand under the collar to get at her breasts. They are full and soft and her nipples are already hard and wanting.

She looks back at him again and they could easily kiss, but they don't.

The horse veers to the left and she turns back around. Arthur pulls one hand out of her shirt and slips it into her trousers instead. His fingers touch a bed of tight curls and he wants to see them. He wants to know if they are as jet-black as the long hair on her head, or if they are a lighter, more inviting shade of brown.

Her breath hitches in her throat as he slides his fingers lower to rub at her clit.

Arthur focuses on the girl and her writhing hips and her soft gasps and her still decent riding and steering skills. He ruts against her arse to take the edge off his arousal, but he doesn't want to come. He doesn't need to come and he's not even sure that he could come if he tried. He just needs to do this. He needs to touch someone else and anchor himself to reality with that familiar pleasure.

Arthur uses the rocky, unsteady rhythm of the ride to get the girl off and she comes with a startlingly high-pitched moan. She arches against him, rolling her hips into his hand.

"Do you need help, my lord?" she asks, her voice breathy and low as she reaches behind her back to grasp at his cock before she's even properly recovered from her climax.

"No," Arthur says simply. "We're nearly there."

\--

Uther does not welcome Arthur home with open arms or a smile or even a nod. He is harsh and ungrateful that Arthur is even still alive.

Arthur defends himself as best he can, sure that if he can just prove himself to be worthy then Uther will have no choice but to accept his return.

It takes some convincing, but eventually Uther takes the scroll that Arthur has brought from Cenred.

"I see," Uther says, clearly displeased by the message. "I destroy Cenred's enemies for him and he will make me king of the Iron Islands once again."

"I will lead the attack myself," Arthur says proudly, sure that this display of military prowess is what will win his father over.

"Oh, you will?" Uther says mockingly.

"I'm your son!" Arthur says sternly, restraining himself from shouting. "Your only living heir! Who else?"

The door creaks open behind them and the girl who had brought him here on horseback comes in, smiling confidently. Arthur watches, dumbfounded, as she approaches Uther.

"My dear," Uther says softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Arthur blinks in shock as it hits him. "Morgana?"

Morgana smirks, one thin eyebrow perched high on her brow. "So good to see you, _brother_."

* * *

**59**  
Fusion - Highlander: The Series

Gwaine is a Watcher, a member of a secret society who knows the truth about Immortals. His job is to observe and record but never interfere. 

It is a good thing Gwaine has never been one to strictly follow the rules. 

“Arthur,” he says, slapping down the dossier onto Arthur’s coffee table, “he doesn’t even know what he is.”

Arthur towels his hair. He is dripping with sweat from a training session, his favorite broadsword loose in his grip. He glances at the picture of the new immortal, frowning. 

“Not interested in taking on a student, Gwaine,” he says, placing his sword across the couch cushions then padding to the back of the dojo toward the shower. “Ask Leon,” he calls over his shoulder. 

Gwaine sighs. He has watched Arthur for a few years now, a mere fraction of Arthur’s lifetime, but he feels he knows Arthur fairly well. 

“Nim’s after him,” he adds, knowing full well Arthur and Nim have a century’s worth of history, none of it good. 

It stops Arthur in his tracks. 

“He has no family,” Gwaine continues. “He was riding his bike and was clipped by a car. He died, alone, in a ditch, and woke up hours later. Arthur, he doesn’t know anything about the Game.”

Gwaine sees the flicker of sympathy in Arthur’s eyes and knows Arthur is remembering his own first death on a medieval battlefield. 

“What’s his name,” Arthur asks, picking up the file. 

Gwaine smiles. “Merlin.”

-

Gwaine watches as Arthur strides into the coffeeshop where Merlin works. Merlin snaps his head up when Arthur enters, undoubtedly feeling the buzzing sensation that is the Immortal alert system. He is wary but Arthur flirts shamelessly. Merlin is quite adorable as he stammers and blushes. Arthur lures Merlin to his flat and Gwaine writes in the record the date/time/moment Arthur tells Merlin about Immortals, the Game, death via beheading and Holy Ground.

Merlin jumps to his feet. 

“She said the same thing!” he yells. “You are all nutters. Leave me alone!”

Merlin leaves. Arthur lets him. 

A few days later, Gwaine notes Merlin’s return. He looks exhausted, hollow-eyed, swaying on his feet. Arthur catches him before he falls. 

“Okay,” Merlin says. “What happens if I believe you?”

-

The first day of Merlin’s training is hilarious. Gwaine records that Merlin drops the katana Arthur gave him at least nineteen times.

-

Months pass. Merlin becomes better at fighting. He is still rough around the edges but he doesn’t drop his sword nearly as much. He might stand a chance if he is ever challenged. 

Arthur is proud, as he should be, but Gwaine notices something else there. Arthur’s touches linger. He smiles more, seems happier. 

-

Merlin’s first challenge comes in the spring. 

“You are not ready!” Arthur yells, pacing the dojo floor. “Valiant is a killer.”

“He challenged me! I can’t walk away. There can be only one.”

Arthur steps close, cups Merlin’s cheek. “I know. Be careful.”

Merlin smiles bravely. “I will.”

Arthur kisses him goodbye. 

-

Percival is assigned as Merlin’s Watcher. Gwaine sends him home, sparing him the possible sight of Merlin’s death. No one likes to see their guy lose.

-

The fight is brutal. Valiant is experienced, deadly. He clips Merlin’s leg early on and Merlin is hobbled. He falls and Gwaine bites back a sob as Valiant advances, but Merlin recovers, rolls, twists, takes Valiant by surprise and brings his katana down in a deadly arc. 

The Quickening lights up the sky.

Gwaine records Merlin’s first kill as Merlin manages to stagger home. 

-

Arthur is waiting for him. He attacks Merlin, kisses him hard, desperate, manhandles him to the bed, tears his clothes in his haste. 

Merlin is still thrumming with the power from the Quickening and he flips Arthur over, fucks into him with little preparation, his cock hard and thick. Arthur takes it, moans loud and wanton as Merlin’s hips snap in a frantic rhythm.

Gwaine palms himself through his jeans, watches as Merlin comes, head thrown back, spine arched, grip hard on Arthur’s hips as he fills him up. 

He collapses onto Arthur’s back, sated, exhausted. 

Arthur pushes him off, Merlin landing in the pillows. Arthur’s cock is still hard. He straddles Merlin’s chest, come sliding down the insides of his thighs as he jerks off. Merlin encourages him with filthy moans and endearments, his fingers buried in Arthur’s arse. 

Arthur comes with a grunt, paints Merlin’s face. 

Gwaine comes in his pants. 

He doesn’t record that part.

* * *

**60**  
Fusion: The Smurfs

"I'm not sure where he smurfed the lube," said Wizard Smurf's round bottom and pert blue tail as it bobbed about while the rest of Wizard Smurf kept smurfing about under the bed.

Normally, this would have been the smurfiest sight to be greeted with on his unexpectedly early return from his smurfberry foraging trip, but... _smurfing lube_ , and it wasn't him but the stupidly handsome Chivalrous Smurf standing casually over Wizard Smurf watching him wriggle... A purple haze crept over Smurf Charming's vision and there was a smurfish sort of buzz in his ears, like when he had been stung by the Bzzz Fly. "What the smurf is going on here?"

Wizard Smurf smurfed his head on the bottom of the bed with a yelp. Smurfed him right, Smurf Charming thought bitterly as he quietly set down the smurfberries before he smurfed them all into pulp. Chivalrous Smurf only gave him an innocent little wave. "I was just asking Wizard Smurf if he had some lube," said the treacherous Smurf pleasantly. "Smithevere was smurfing on the prototype smurfmobile and ran out, and we didn't want to bother Doctor Smurf."

All very neat and smurfable, of course, but Smurf Charming wasn't fooled. He could see how Chivalrous Smurf tracked Wizard Smurf's bottom as he wriggled back out from under the bed, and he remembered how Wizard Smurf's eyes had shone when he told Doctor Smurf about the way brave Chivalrous Smurf had saved him from the Howlibird.

"You're back!"Wizard Smurf said brightly as he sat up, dusting off his cap and arms and beaming at Chivalrous Smurf as though they had not been smurfably interrupted by Smurf Charming's intrusion. "I found it!" he said, holding up a smurfbunny-covered bottle of smurfmobile lubricant. "But it's empty too."

"That's all right, Wizard Smurf, thank you. I'll try asking Knight-smith Smurf, then. Welcome back, Smurf Charming." Chivalrous Smurf smiled benignly at Smurf Charming and let himself out.

As soon as the door closed behind Chivalrous Smurf, Smurf Charming stormed up and caught Wizard Smurf just as he got to his feet, and walked him backwards to the bed. Wizard Smurf folded and fell over as the back of his knees hit the side of the bed, and Smurf Charming had him pinned underneath in a Smurf's heartbeat. "Smurf Charming! What-" Smurf Charming stopped his words with a hard kiss, smurfing greedily at Wizard Smurf's mouth and throat until he melted and went all smurfy-lidded, kissing back just as intently.

"Is this what you smurf up to when I am away? Smurfing about for Chivalrous Smurf with your tail in the air?" he snarled, shoving his hips against Wizard Smurf's, letting the panting Smurf feel him thrust his smurfness hard and hot against him.

Wizard Smurf's eyes shot open, wide and furious. "This- You think-" He stopped, and bit Smurf Charming's lip hard, thrusting his equally hard smurfness back against Smurf Charming's. They both groaned as they rubbed against each other, then Wizard Smurf bared his teeth. "Yes! And I went out smurfing with Drunk Smurf too! And yesterday, Knight-smith Smurf came to show me how to use his tools too! That's why we're out of the smurfing lube!"

Smurf Charming smurfed an inarticulate noise and ripped at Wizard Smurf's white leggings, practically smurfing them into shreds while Wizard Smurf smurfed his fingers hard into Smurf Charming's bottom, managing to pull his leggings halfway down. And half-way was quite enough for Smurf Charming to turn Wizard Smurf over and press his bared smurfness into Wizard Smurf's tight entrance.

Too tight. Wizard Smurf grunted in pain, and Smurf Charming gathered himself enough to smurf out the lube from their bedside table and smurf far too much onto his hand. He cursed and smurfed it sloppily over his smurfness, then pushed into Wizard Smurf's resisting body as they both groaned at the smurfing pressure. "Smurf Charming," Wizard Smurf gasped, and trembled under him, and Smurf Charming nearly lost control at the hot clutch of Wizard Smurf's body around his smurfness as he pulled out and thrust in again.

"Your smurf is mine," he growled, fucking into Wizard Smurf with long, slow strokes, so deep the velvet nub of Wizard Smurf's tail rubbed against his belly, savouring Wizard Smurf's muffled moans. He slapped Wizard Smurf's hand away from his leaking smurfness and took Wizard Smurf in hand himself, smurfing him in time to his thrusts. "Remember that."

"Yours," Wizard Smurf agreed. "Faster, Smurf Charming, faster, smurf you!"

* * *

**61**

**Warnings:** Underage, Dub-con, and light gore  
 **Fusion:** Resident Evil

The exit is literally _right fucking **there**_ but one of those damn, bugger-fuck, creepy ass zombie dogs is down the hallway and in the way. Its skinless muzzle and exposed jawbone ripping into the wet, red ruin of a nearby torso. Just run in and get the kid from Hive’s living quarters and he’s a free man, contract voided and Umbrella can kiss his fabulous ass.

Easy peasy.

Right.

Wrong! Of _course_ wrong. Gwaine’s down to his handgun and fucked, unless he can get them out that door and to the helicopter. He can’t afford to miss even one shot and those doberman’s are fucking _fast_.

“So, kid. What’s your name?”

The boy glares up at him from under a shaggy mop of dark hair, out of breath and sullen in the dim light of the storage closet their hiding in. “Merlin, and I’m not a **child**. I’m an intern.”

Christ! The kid couldn’t be more than seventeen, and he’s _already_ undergound? He must be something special then.

“Well Merlin, I’m Gwaine.” His trademark grin was a bit strained but he forged on bravely. “Now, this has been quite a ride and we’re almost out of here, but just in case something goes horribly wrong at the last minute I wanted to tell you that you have gorgeous eyes mate. Gorgeous.” He really wasn’t lying, the kid has almost scary beautiful blue eyes.

“Really? _Really_? Have you lost your damn mind?!” Not the most encouraging reaction, but still, Gwaine could work with it. He smiles almost apologetically before wrapping an arm around the boy and pulling him close. “Yeah,” he murmurs against that cupid’s bow mouth. “Fucking _gorgeous_.” The merc insists, squeezing his ass firmly in emphasis.

Merlin lets out an astonished little gurgle and Gwaine moves in to capture his mouth, nibbling lightly at his bottom lip before his tongue sweeps in and takes over. He may have ulterior motives but this might be the last kiss either of them get so Gwaine takes the time and effort to make it good. Bringing the intensity up til Merlin’s gasping, grasping at his body armor and then slowing down and gentling it until the boy is shaking in his arms and pulling at him.

Gwaine’s still uncomfortably aware of the door behind them and the weight of the gun in his free hand. So he attempts to speed things up a bit by backing them against the wall and lifting Merlin with the one arm to quickly position his thigh for best results. Merlin’s eyes go comically wide in disbelief, then flutter in pleasure, as he works it in small rhythmic circles against the boyishly eager cock suddenly straining the fabric between coltish thighs. Never let it be said that skilled mercs, near death experiences, and crazed teenage hormones didn’t make for good sex.

“ _Ohmygod_!” Merlin whines into his mouth, all swollen lips and stubble burnt jaw. “What are you _doing_?!”

Gwaine just shushes him, undoes the button on Merlin’s pants and rips open the zipper. He sets the gun down on the shelving unit next to them covers Merlin’s mouth with one gloved hand, then pulls the other glove off with his teeth and spits it to the floor. Merlin’s glaring at him and biting ineffectually at his leather covered palm, tense, but otherwise not fighting. “Easy baby.” Gwaine orders, amused and mouthing at his hand til it’s sloppy wet. “I’m making this good for you.”

The kid’s face is this adorable shade of scarlet when Gwaine pulls his cock out of these prim white briefs and works the slick over its length. One smooth twist of the wrist over the angry red tip of it has Merlin bucking helplessly against the wall, gives him enough juice to make this fast and hard. The wet slap of skin against skin the only sound in the room with the kid’s needy cries completely muffled by Gwaine’s grip.

He’s quick and ruthless about it, jacking hard til Merlin’s screaming and heaving against him and the hot spill of cum fills his palm. Almost immediately Gwaine’s shoving the boy into a easily defended corner and quietly opening the door to wipe his hand, leaving a thick smear across the floor. Trap set he easily disposes the last obstacle between them and freedom while it’s curiously lapping at the congealing mess.

* * *

**62**  
Crossover - Hawaii 5-0

“I almost lost you today,” Merlin whispered into the warm skin at Arthur’s throat, his voice husky with remember fear. He clutched desperately at the fabric of his partner’s shirt, the material bunched tight in his fists. “If it hadn’t been for Commander McGarrett --”

“Shhhhh,” Arthur soothed. “It’s okay, Merlin. I’m here.” He gently tipped Merlin’s head up, looking deep into bright blue eyes. “I’m here,” he breathed,resting their foreheads together. “It’s all right.”

It had almost been the exact opposite of “all right.” Even though it involved international cooperation, the case was simple. The task force created by the Governor of Hawaii had captured one Edwin Muirden, a fugitive Arthur and Merlin had been tracking for months, in Honolulu. 

Peddling the designer drug “Cure All” -- a drug that, when cut with certain opiates, gave a high unlike any seen before -- Muirden had managed to dodge Her Majesty’s agents for months. Merlin and Arthur had devoted everything they had to catching Muirden when a pure form had hit the streets, driving people mad. And then the bodies started dropping.

For weeks, they’d tracked his every move, marked all of his known associates. They’d been ready to move in on his main operations factory when he just...disappeared. No one knew where he’d gone, or at least they weren’t tell Her Majesty’s agents. The trail had gone completely cold until they’d gotten a call from Detective Danny Williams of the 5-0 Task Force in Hawaii.

Muirden had been picked up when he tried to sell Cure All to an undercover officer. Considering their involvement, Merlin and Arthur had insisted on personally seeing to his transport back to England. 

From the time they stepped foot on Hawaiian soil, _nothing_ had gone right. 

Arthur had been kidnapped on the way 5-0 headquarters, and it was only Steve McGarrett’s reassurance that 5-0 was the best in the business -- and seeing that for himself -- that had kept Merlin from flying completely apart.

Merlin reached out and slowly unbuttoned Arthur’s shirt, stopping to run gentle fingers over the scrapes and scratches that decorated Arthur’s chest. He tenderly drew the shirt down Arthur’s arms, throwing it over his shoulder to land somewhere in the dark of the room. He toyed idly with the fastening to Arthur’s trousers, looking up through inky lashes before surging forward to capture Arthur’s lips in a deep, desperate kiss.

“Merlin?” Arthur whispered, burying his fingers into the hair at Merlin’s nape.

“I --” Merlin begged. “Arthur, I need --”

“Shhhh,” Arthur breathed. “I know. I know.” He stood still and allowed Merlin to slowly finish undressing him, lead him to the bed, and lay him down. When he reached for Merlin, his hands were batted away and Merlin glared sternly as he undressed and straddled Arthur’s hips. 

Merlin’s hand and lips wandered all over Arthur’s body, kiss, licking, fondling, and caressing. He took his time examining every inch he could reach, making sure that Arthur really was all right, reaffirming that neither of them had lost from their ordeal. 

Arthur hissed as Merlin sucked deeply at the join of his shoulder and neck and moaned loud and long when his partner wrapped a hand around his cock. Merlin stroked firmly as he leaned up and kissed Arthur, demanding entrance to his mouth and tangling their tongues together. He swallowed Arthur’s gasp when he reached lower, teasing lightly at Arthur’s hole.

Arthur’s whimper of loss as Merlin pulled his hands away turned to a moan of longing when he looked up to see Merlin with his back arched and one hand working his own cock while he buried his fingers deep into his own body. The brief thought of _When did he --_ was lost as Merlin rose up over him and then slowly lowered himself onto Arthur’s cock. 

Merlin rode him hard and rough, their moans and cries filling the room. Arthur reached up and pulled Merlin down to him, crushing their lips together as he dragged his hand down Merlin’s back. He teased at their joining, rubbing at the puckered skin of Merlin’s hole and gasping to feel himself driving into his lover. 

Merlin whined when Arthur slipped a finger in next to his cock. He wailed and arched back as his orgasm overcame him, painting Arthur’s chest. The sight of him was so erotic that it pushed Arthur over the edge, and he joined his lover in a long release.

* * *

**63**  
[Fusion with _Teen Wolf_.]

Arthur’s house is pristine – weapons hidden and organised with care, werewolf lore books neatly slipped between fairytales and fantasy, random knick-knacks displayed to make the place feel less barren – so naturally, his father finds fault with everything. 

But Arthur is a born hunter, it’s in his blood, and even with Uther breathing down his neck, he tracks down a werewolf pack ravaging a supermarket: rabid, out of control, lucky that there’s no one around to maul – this time. 

After, Uther claps his shoulder and hands him newspaper clippings containing sightings of another wolf nearby, and says, “I trust you’ll make me proud.”

*

Yellow eyes stare back at him from the trees, too close to the town, to destroying lives; Arthur’s aim is unerring. But the night is warm and his finger slips on the trigger, just a little; the werewolf yelps when the bullet grazes its thigh, snarls at them. Arthur’s heart beats loudly, measuring time in rapid _thump thump thump_ s, and then the wolf limps off into the woods. 

They don’t find its trail. 

He listens to Uther’s lecture quietly; bows his head.

*

It’s wrong; he knows it is. 

He opens the window, anyway, lets Merlin climb inside. Outside, the full moon is fading into the pale morning sky.

Merlin looks angry, crowds him against a wall, and Arthur slips his fingers into the tear of Merlin’s jeans, finds the scar where the wound has already healed, where the wolfsbane bullet wasn’t quite able to poison his blood.

Merlin growls, slams Arthur back against the wall of his bedroom, his eyes going faintly yellow again. 

“Be quiet, you idiot,” Arthur says, inclines his head towards where his father is, on the other side of the wall. 

“What the hell was that,” Merlin hisses, and Arthur shuts him up, licks over Merlin’s still too-sharp teeth, and it’s not his fault if this is the only way to keep Merlin quiet, so he doesn’t feel guilty about pulling at Merlin’s hair and deepening the kiss – he doesn’t.

Merlin’s reaction is immediate, biting at Arthur’s lips and digging possessive fingers into his hips, sharp nails piercing skin. He growls a little, but it’s softer now, closer to pleased, and if Arthur’s cock hardens just then, it’s a coincidence; he’s been pumped with adrenaline all night, after all.

Merlin drags him to the floor, graceless and eager, and the anger has definitely left him now: he buries his nose in Arthur’s neck and breathes, inhales deeply, starts licking greedy stripes; Arthur cups the back of his head, unthinking.

He can’t even count the ways in which this is wrong: Merlin is dangerous, out of control, and some day, Arthur thinks, he’s going to hurt someone. It’s Arthur’s duty to take him out. 

Gwen left him because she could not bear to live by the rules, to kill monsters, and he let her walk, his heart broken and hollow; he let her walk because it was his fucking _duty_ , and here he is rutting on the floor with this stupid kid who’s barely even eighteen, and if there is a hell, then Arthur’s ticket has been booked for months now. 

But how was he supposed to pull the trigger when he remembered Merlin as the boy with the innocent smile who always somehow ended up riding his bike near Arthur’s house; who plucked flowers for Gwen, but gave them to Arthur; who was sweet and cheeky and contrary, and stupid, stupid, stupid; who made him realise belatedly that those dead rabbits on his porch during the full moon had not been threats, after all.

How is he supposed to pull the trigger when Merlin still makes him laugh, when Merlin’s the only one to invade his house when it is too empty?

Merlin is still high on the full moon: he drapes himself over Arthur’s back, rips off clothes with sharp nails, impatient. Arthur is ready for him, knew this would come; he lets his head thunk softly against the wall when Merlin starts fucking him. Merlin bites the back of him neck, licks it, and Arthur muffles his moan with the back of his own hand. Merlin huffs, wants to hear him, but Arthur strokes a soothing hand up his thigh, murmurs, “C’mon.” 

Merlin growls against the back of his neck, displeased; snarls, “Mine,” and Arthur’s heart trips over itself; his cock spurts a little. The wall is cold against his cheek, and he tries to think “I’m sorry” through it, but only manages “fuck, yes, yes, _yes_ ” instead.

* * *

**64**  
Fusion: Supernatural

“Are you tired of it?” Merlin asked, kissing down Arthur’s exposed neck. “Of all this running?”

“Mmm, not at the moment,” Arthur smirks and brings Merlin back up to kiss him. They are already naked, entwined on the lumpy motel bed. It is nothing for Arthur to reach between them and stroke Merlin’s erection.

Merlin closes his eyes, wanting to forget the stained, peeling walls and focus on the feel of Arthur. He moans as Arthur’s hands increase their pace.

Their bags are still packed. Everything they own stuffed into the stretched canvas of gym bags. Neither of them have bothered unpacking during the last three years.

“More,” Merlin whimpers, hitching his leg higher up on Arthur’s waist, giving him room to reach behind and slowly prepare Merlin for what’s about to happen. One finger at a time slipping in, stretching, slowly undoing Merlin.

There are ways to speed this up. Merlin knows just the spell that would lubricate and stretch him, have him ready for Arthur to penetrate and take. But not tonight, and definitely not after being forced to move once again.

Arthur’s fingers curl, stroke deep inside him and Merlin arches back, riding out the ecstasy.

Magic is what brought them here. Merlin’s big secret, the one thing he was never supposed to let anyone know about. His mother had ingrained that into him.

But then he had met Arthur, and young love hit him hard and fast. It didn’t help that Arthur attracted supernatural trouble like no other. A simple camping trip brought our wendigos, every other full moon a werewolf, and around every corner there was a vengeful spirit. And Merlin, young and in love, had believed he had found the purpose for his gift; to protect Arthur.

And then Arthur had loved him back.

“Are you ready?” Arthur moans, his face tight in concentration.

“Yes.”

He removes his fingers, drawing them out and leaving Merlin feeling oddly empty. The cold jolt of lube covered fingers return and withdraw.

Arthur enters him with one deep thrust.

When he had found out about Merlin’s magic was the first time they pulled each other’s clothes off and brought each other to climax using their hands and mouth. Arthur had seen the golden eyes flash, and unlike all the warnings Merlin’s mother had tried to drill into his head, Arthur hadn’t been afraid and he hadn’t hated him. Instead he had sucked an earth shattering climax out of Merlin.

The same sort of climax that Merlin could feel building now. With every thrust and movement of Arthur behind him, Merlin felt himself get closer and closer to the edge, gripping the floral-printed comforter.

Unfortunately not everyone was as accepting as Arthur and his mother. Kids at school had known something was off about that Emerys kid and Merlin had only been seventeen when the first Hunter came to town. Apparently Arthur Pendragon had been saved from so many odd and supernatural occurrences that it had caught the attention of the Hunters. The group of people who hunted people like Merlin.

That first one, a Hunter named Bobby, had taken one look at Merlin’s young, scared face, and how he held Arthur’s hand. The Hunter had sighed and told him to run until he couldn’t anymore and then just keep on running.

“And if you ever kill someone, I’ll shoot you myself.”

That had been a nice Hunter.

“Come on!” Arthur commands, thrusting erratically now. But Merlin doesn’t need the encouragement, he’s already coming, spraying the comforter below them. Arthur doesn’t last much longer.

They collapse into a heap, barely able to move.

Every time they enter a new motel room they like to christen it this way. Ever since they were seventeen and took that Hunter’s advice. At twenty the two of them were completely isolated, trying their hardest to ignore the world of the supernatural and avoid the attention of the many small towns they moved into.

“Do you regret it?” Merlin asks quietly as their breath returns to normal.

“No.”

* * *

**65**  
crossover: scooby-doo!

God, Arthur _hated_ meeting people in the business. Freaks, the lot of them.

He used to be ok with the Mystery, Inc. gang as they came equipped with: never-ending albeit bizarre amalgamations of snacks, a van with the most atrocious paintjob that shocked braying laughter out of him the first time he saw it and that Merlin honestly loved, and Velma who had an encyclopaedic knowledge of esoteric trivia that outstripped even Merlin’s and could cower Arthur with a look that rivaled, maybe even surpassed, Gaius’ eyebrow. Not to mention they were all blessedly human, and thus free from any unnatural, _uncivilised_ inclinations towards Merlin, who was akin to supernatural catnip, the big-eared idiot.

Merlin was pure magic, and attracted everything with a sliver of blood of the same. He appeared limned in sunlight to them, bathed in gold. But as a human boy, Merlin was often overlooked -- more awkward and gangly than fae and ethereal. He had the tendency to attract soft-hearted, big-chested girls who would take him home, draw him to their strangely heaving bosoms (Merlin would later recount), and not look terribly sad or surprised when he broke the news of his homosexuality to them. Merlin just wasn’t- he wasn’t obvious. His was a beauty that grew on you, _plagued_ you. The kind of looks, the kind of quirks, that appreciated more quality over time, that somehow became a revelation. You’d find yourself unconsciously tracing the memory of the jut of his cheekbones with your fingers, getting lost in probing thoughts of what it might feel like to press the pad of your thumb against the distracting dent of that lower lip and just slightly _push_ \--

And now it looked like Fred had turned the corner, bloody well tripped and impaled himself on those dangerous cheekbones and didn’t look all that mindful to get up ever again. What did they even have to talk about? A mutual taste in offensive neckwear? Surely nothing would necessitate Merlin’s long, slim tapered fingers pressing so suggestively against Fred’s chest.

Why were they still hanging around here anyway? They’d gone over Fred’s plan, which featured a perplexing and unnecessary amount of levers and pulleys, Arthur hadn’t said, because unlike some people who couldn’t keep their hands off other people’s idiot boyfriends, Arthur had manners. He rolled off his chair with a startling wobble and stared at the empty bottle in his hand and the empties nestled like ducklings around his feet. Huh.

“If you’re quite finished,” he said, too loudly.

Merlin turned to him, and he had that familiar sharp look on his face, before he took in Arthur’s appearance entirely and his eyes softened into a much nicer look. “Can’t take you anywhere,” he murmured, and it was strange that he could make those words sound so sweet, pair them even sweeter with his soft touches and guiding hands as he led Arthur to their car and helped him in.

“What were you two talking about? You and _Fred_ ,” he elaborated.

Merlin stared at him. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Don’t even start. Contrary to your opinion, the entire world does _not_ want to shag me!”

“You were talking for hours! What do you possibly have in common with him besides hideous taste in neckwear? Your hands were _all over him_.”

“We were talking about ascots, you berk! Specifically, the four ways to tie them in dress and day cravat mode. Riveting stuff,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Will you ever stop being so jealous?”

He palmed the front of his Merlin’s trousers knowingly, before he unzipped them deftly. “Only if you’ll ever stop loving it this much,” he said before he leaned down and mouthed at the hard shape of Merlin’s cock through the thin cotton of his y-fronts.

“God," Merlin groaned. “We’re parked right outside. Someone might see.”

“You want me to stop?”

“ _Fuck no_ , I want you to get on with it. Don’t tell me you’re choosing now to learn about foreplay.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He’d totally get Merlin back for that foreplay comment. Start by tying him down and licking him open and leaving him leaking all over himself for hours. Arthur hummed happily at the thought as he mouthed messily at the head of Merlin’s cock, before his lips opened and stretched around him.

* * *

**66**  
 **Warnings:** hints at bdsm

Crossover: Sherlock (BBC)

 

"I bet he likes to take it bent over a table," Gwaine grins.

"Nah," Will answers. "He doesn't look the type."

"How do you even _look_ the type to like anything?" Arthur asks.

Merlin glances at Arthur from under his lashes, catches the darkening of Arthur's eyes. They discussed what things people liked last night after Merlin tied Arthur to the bed and fucked him.

Upper class, forever proper Arthur liked to be held down and fucked until he screamed. Arthur who was head of Pendragon Corp. got off on having his hair pulled as he sucked Merlin's cock. Arthur, with his blond hair and posh accent, liked it when Merlin came on his face and worked it into his hair.

There was very little to be said about appearances as far as Merlin was concerned.

"That bloke looks like he's got a bigger stick up his arse than Pendragon," Will throws back at Gwaine. "No fucking way is he taking it anywhere near his arse."

"He's giving it then," Gwaine says.

Merlin watches Arthur, Gwaine and Will turn to the two men sitting on the bench at the park across from where the lot of them are having lunch. Merlin's more discreet about turning.

The men are sitting a friendly distance from each other. The taller of them with the dark curls and green eyes is jiggling his foot as he stares at the street to his left, his fingers tapping away at a mobile. He's wearing a trench coat and the expression on his face borders on irritated. The shorter man has a military cut that matches the set of his jaw. He's just kind of staring at his hands and occasionally throwing an exasperated glance at the man next to him.

"I dare you to ask them," Will says.

"What are you, six," Arthur mocks.

"Nope," Gwaine says, but he's already standing. "If anything we're more like twelve."

-

John Watson is a patient man, but Sherlock Holmes has stretched that patience thin ever since they met.

Today, for example. John is supposed to be on a date with Sarah, the girl from the cafe where John gets coffee in the mornings. He's supposed to be charming his way into her pants, could be fucking her at this very moment if things went well. Instead, he's sitting on a bench in a park somewhere in London. He's also pretty sure the four men in the restaurant across the street are checking him out.

"You probably wouldn't have gotten very far with Sarah."

"And why the fuck not?" John snaps keeping his eye on the man with the messy brown hair and the suggestive smile.

"Because," Sherlock says. "She was wearing a wedding ring." 

John says nothing.

"You're not very observant, are you?"

John would beg to differ. 

"Those four men who keep looking our way," Sherlock asks. "Do you know them?"

Blue eyes on two of them. One blond. One with black curls. Two with brown hair.

"No."

"I didn't think you did. They've been watching us for a while. The pale one with the dark hair is trying to be discreet about it. And the blond thinks he's above whatever petty nonsense the other three are discussing."

"How do you know?"

"His shoes."

"Of course."

"From the way they're looking at us," Sherlock goes on. "I assume they think we're together."

"You know," John says watching as the men get up. "This wouldn't keep happening if you let me go on dates."

"Sarah was married."

"I didn't want her for a bloody relationship."

And sure, it sounds bad when John says it out loud, but he's sitting on a bench waiting for a potential murderer to show up when he could be having his brains sucked out through his cock.

"Excuse me, mate. Quick question, who buggers who?"

"Will!"

"What," the man called Will shrugs. "Better to go straight to the point."

John sighs, turns to Sherlock. "Is there no one in the world who actually cares that we're not homosexuals?"

Sherlock doesn't even glance up from the text he's sending. "No," he answers.

"Excuse me," John raises an eyebrow. 

"It wasn't the schoolteacher," Sherlock answers, looks up and then. "Who are you?"

The kid with the dirty grin extends a hand. "Gwaine."

"Will."

"Arthur."

"Merlin."

John can feel the beginnings of that pulsing headache he gets after a long day following Sherlock. He looks to the men in front of him.

"Seriously," John asks.


	4. Group A (without warnings)

**1**  
Fusion: The Hunger Games

Merlin spread his arms and legs across the bed and moved them as though making an angel in the snowy white sheets. "I can't get over these sheets. You never told me. We don't have anything like this back home."

"That's why I didn't tell you." Arthur paced by the foot of the bed. Merlin's grins of wonderment were driving him mad. He loved Merlin more than anything else in this fucked up, horrible world, but he wanted to shake that ridiculous smile off his face. They only had a few hours before the Hunger Games began: so little time to figure out how to keep Merlin alive.

"I think I want another shower." Merlin got up and gave Arthur a look. "Join me?"

The clock ticked in Arthur's head, louder and louder with every wasted second. He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

"Come on. I'll set the fragrance controls to freesia. I know it's your favorite. You should have been reaped with the girls your year."

Arthur had never really been reaped at all; at eighteen he had volunteered as tribute, as he had trained to do his entire life. Then he had gone into the arena and killed twenty-three other kids until he won the right to come home to Merlin.

Merlin, who should have been safe. Merlin, who had never trained to fight and kill like the rest of them. Merlin, who was two years younger than Arthur and only had to survive one last reaping.

Merlin, who took the stage without a flicker of fear when his name was called into a silence that echoed like a scream in Arthur's head. For the first time in decades, nobody volunteered -- and Arthur no longer could.

"Fine." Merlin kicked off his briefs, no doubt delighting in leaving them for someone else to clean up. "But if you don't hurry, I'm programming the honeysuckle body oil and you'll just have to live with it."

Arthur didn't want a shower, but he couldn't stand to be apart from Merlin for a minute when they had so few minutes left. He stripped and barged into the shower stall. Merlin started to turn, but Arthur pinned him face first against the wall. 

"Don't go for the weapons," he said into Merlin's ear. "Run. Hide. Let them kill each other off for a while."

"That's not what you did," Merlin mumbled against the wet tile. "I don't need to run."

"Merlin, you've had exactly two days of combat training in your entire pathetic life. I was trained to kill since birth." With two Victors for parents, he'd never had a chance for anything else.

"But I have my own advantages." Merlin turned his head, baring his teeth in a feral grin and letting Arthur see the golden glow in his eyes.

He couldn't answer. An idiotic risk, but he couldn't bring himself to forbid anything that might bring Merlin back to him.

So he slicked his cock and fucked him as hard as he could instead, until Merlin was grunting and clawing at the shower walls. Arthur seized his wrists and pinned them to the tile above their heads. 

"I want you to feel this tomorrow." Arthur drove into him, wild with need. "I want you to remember, every time you take a step, why you have to stay alive."

Merlin’s words struggled out around his gasps. "To be honest, staying alive is pretty good incentive all by itself."

"Stop. Joking." He buried his face in Merlin's neck and choked out his orgasm. Under his eyelids, the two tributes he had mentored last year died over and over again. 

"Just think what a tragic figure you'll cut in the Capitol. The lovelorn Victor. Sponsors will flock to you.” Merlin clenched around his softening cock, trying to work up enough stimulation to come. "That poor dear, they'll say. The odds weren't in his favor after all."

He trailed off as he worked himself to the point of climax and came with a long, wordless cry.

After, Arthur rubbed a towel over Merlin's shoulders, but Merlin stayed pressed against the wall. 

"Come on," Arthur said, kissing his cheek. "You need to sleep."

Merlin's laugh startled him. "You really think I have any chance of sleeping tonight?" When he turned around, Arthur finally saw the fear in his eyes. "You really think I have any chance of making it home?"

Arthur pulled Merlin against him, wrapping them both in freesia-scented warmth. "Yes. We'll always beat the odds."

He couldn’t allow himself to believe anything else.

* * *

**2**  
 **Fusion:** Pretty Woman

Slumped down on the sofa, Arthur's legs are sprawled out. It's been a terribly long day and he's knackered. He should be relaxing because the next week'll be hell, but it's really hard to concentrate when there's a _hooker_ lying on the floor in front of the telly.

Merlin throws a glance over his shoulder. He smiles wide, eyes crinkling at the corners, cheekbones standing out as the light from the television flickers on them. The models for Arthur's fashion house would kill for those cheekbones. 

Arthur's still trying to work out just what convinced him that picking up a hooker, allowing him to drive the damn American rental car through the streets of L.A, and then invite him up into the hotel for the night was a good idea.

Merlin shuffles on his knees to the sofa to between Arthur's legs, slides his hands over Arthur's thighs, and starts to unbutton Arthur's trousers, and _oh yeah_. It'd been too hard to resist; Arthur is constantly surrounded by pretty young people, but none of them have ever been as gorgeous and tempting as this cheeky bloke that swindled money for directions out of him. But Arthur hadn't meant – he's not really like _this_ – and he doesn't expect – 

"Merlin, you don't—"

"What, now?" Merlin asks playfully, his nimble fingers working at Arthur's fly. His British accent is comforting and feels a bit like home. "You seem the serious businessman type, I'm sure you want your money's worth?"

"I—" Arthur's cut off to a groan when Merlin's hand dips into his briefs and rubs his cock. 

"Come on, then," Merlin says, tugging at Arthur's trousers. Arthur's hips automatically lift up and Merlin smoothly pulls them down and gently takes out Arthur's cock. "Hmm, yes," Merlin murmurs, quickly ducking down and nosing at the crease at the top of Arthur's thigh. "God, that's lovely. You are."

Arthur chokes out a laugh that melts into a moan when Merlin lightly strokes his half-hard dick with the tips of his fingers. Merlin reaches into his own pocket, but then he's grinning as he pulls out a condom. "I'll do you up right."

In no time at all, Arthur's wearing a condom and Merlin's talented tongue is licking him, confident and skilled. He mouths kisses up and down, then creates a tight seal around the head, sucking as if his life depended on it. The noise ripped out of Arthur is unlike any he's heard in a long time. He tries to buck up but it doesn't work, Merlin's surprisingly strong grip on his hips keeping Arthur in place.

"Merlin," Arthur says, voice sounding like he's drank five tumblers full of whiskey. He's not sure what to do with his hands, so they flutter lightly to Merlin's shoulder. "Just – come on – I want—"

Arthur doesn't have time to say what he wants – he's not even sure he knows – before Merlin pulls off saying, "It's okay. You can." He takes Arthur's hand and shoves it into his mop of hair. "When I'm ready, you can fuck my mouth." Merlin goes down on him again, and Arthur can feel Merlin's jaw relax and he swallows around his cock and _Christ_ almighty, he's fucking brilliant. 

Merlin squeezes Arthur's hips, grip loosening, and Arthur cannot possibly hold back. His fingers tighten in Merlin's hair, holding his head in place, and Arthur just lets go. He fucks up into that warm, wet mouth, and Merlin takes it, beautiful and eager. 

After Arthur comes, Merlin's cheeky grin is back in place. "I knew you'd like that," he says, smug, and starts to pull away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur says gruffly, pulling Merlin up onto his lap and palming Merlin's hard cock through his tight jeans.

Merlin looks surprised. "You don't – I mean, clients don't usually—"

"I want to," Arthur says. "I want to make you feel that good too." He leans in for a kiss. Merlin hesitates for one brief second, before diving in to capture Arthur's mouth and rock against his hand. He's gorgeous when he comes.

In the morning, Arthur is shoving sketches into his portfolio when he hears Merlin singing badly from the bathroom where he's bathing. Arthur's big showcase is coming up, and his best model both broke up with him _and_ backed out on work and …

And Arthur gets an idea.

He opens the door and catches Merlin's curious eyes. "Merlin, I have a proposition for you."

Merlin smiles.

* * *

**3**  
 **Crossover:** International Cycling

There's a rule: No fucking anything but yourself during a major race. However, in the face of ArthurfuckingPendragon whispering in your ear for _four consecutive Mountain stages_ , Merlin would bet his chance to be in polka dots in Paris that even the mightiest of climbers would crumble. How Merlin ever made it through those mountains, break-away or no, with Arthur leaning out the window of the team car and cursing, cheering him on with his hair--seriously, _his hair_ \--shining in the French sun, well, the fact that Merlin ever made it at all is amazing. 

Because cycling in spandex is hard enough with a cock between your legs and seven hours of racing, let alone a raging boner. 

Which was why Merlin was sneaking into the massage trailer, legs still wobbly from the days stage and belly full of carbs, instead of stumbling back to his own bed to get some sleep. 

Merlin looked down at the stupidly glistening body of his coach and frowned. It wasn't fair that Arthur looked this attractive or that his arse was _that_ perky. Merlin knew for a fact, that Arthur spent way too much time in the team car and hardly anytime on the bike. He didn't deserve this arse. It wasn't fair that Arthur looked like an adonis, while years of training only made Merlin skinnier. Hell, he was probably thinner than the Schleck brothers and fuck, that took effort.

"Massages are for _riders_ ," Merlin scolded, picking up a towel and smacking Arthur's golden arse. "You race-radio whore." 

Arthur didn't even feign surprise, simply rolled over, cock half-hard and practically sitting up and _waving_ to Merlin because fuck, it missed him and if Merlin was being honest with himself, he the feeling was mutual. It had been three weeks since they'd been naked together and it not be for a team medical.

"You're late," Arthur said.

"You're a fucking prick." 

But Merlin was climbing onto his lap anyway, feeling the strength of his thighs—stout like a sprinter's—flex beneath his arse. "Your stupid _mouth_ , Arthur. I almost endoed and bombed that descent because of your mouth." 

Arthur smiled, smug and perfect, his big hands skimming Merlin's shaved legs and going to squeeze pleasantly at his hips. 

"You didn't want to know how much I'd love to suck your dick until all the dots on the _maillot à pois rouges_ fell off?" 

Merlin glared but his cock twitched and fuck it all but Arthur just smiled wider, those beautifully talented fingers tugging at his still-clothed cock with a force that knocked the wind out of Merlin's chest. 

"I will you know," Arthur continued, leaning up to press soft but bitten kisses to Merlin's jaw. They finally kissed, Arthur's mouth hot and wet against Merlin's wind-swollen lips. Merlin jerked his leaking cock into Arthur's hands, staining the front of his shorts.

"You'll what?" Merlin asked breathlessly after their mouths part. 

Arthur laughed, low and perfect—Merlin could feel the vibrations of it on the tip of his cock as Arthur continued to work him, brutal and efficient, just like everything else about Arthur—from his coaching to his mouth. 

"I'll fuck you so hard," Arthur said, nipping at his ear, "that you'll be too focused on that ache in your pretty little hole to think about the ache in your legs." 

Merlin gasped, practically convulsing like a totally spaz in Arthur's arms when he twisted his hand, wrenching his cock and fuck, it burned but fuck—

"I'll fuck you into the _maillot jaune_ ," Arthur promised, words curling around the French terms in a way that had Merlin rumbling toward his orgasm far faster than expected. "And that night, over-looking the _Champs-Élysées_ , I will eat you out, put my tongue inside of you until you beg me and then I'll fuck you bare, come inside you—so that you can tell the press that nothing compares to being the greatest cyclist in the world _and_ being fucked by the biggest, and best dick." 

Merlin came so hard, he didn't even have time to laugh at the dirty-talk turned joke curling off Arthur's tongue in such a way made cycling-jargon the hottest thing _ever_.

Merlin panted, chest heaving as he came down, eyeing Arthur's leaking, naked dick against him. 

"This wasn't supposed to be an individual time-trial," Merlin said, trying not to smile.

Arthur leaned back, all teeth, tugging fingers and waggling eyebrows. "Then come over here and mount my _L'Alpe d'Huez_." 

"Ridiculous," Merlin said, but they were already kissing.

* * *

**4**  
 **Fusion: One Direction**

It didn’t happen the first time they met, locking eyes across the crowded backstage area of the X Factor auditions. The guy had the face of an angel, Louis couldn’t help himself.

“Louis, nice to meet you.”

“Harry, pleasure.” He shakes Louis’ hand, and smiles. 

Louis is doomed.

+++

The memories didn’t come flooding back the first time they kissed. There were no fireworks, no grand gestures of love and faith. Just their own giddy laughter, Harry’s soft mouth and warm breath. 

“Lou,” Harry breathed, and it felt like a command. 

+++

Something is pulling Louis in, something he can’t quite put his finger on, and it’s not connecting. 

Nothing happens when he meets Eleanor. Not even when he explains everything to her. 

“You’re okay with this?”

“Yeah, I thought that’s what you wanted.” Her eyes are sympathetic. She takes his hand. “Lou, people share each other all the time. You aren’t the first person to ask for a polyamorous relationship. You’re not greedy, or selfish, or whatever else you think that’s wrong with you.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

+++

It happens, oddly enough, back at the cabin, in the middle of the night during a perfectly good dream. 

Louis jolts in his sleep, the sleeping bag restricting his movement. He looks up at the stars and wills the images of war and blood and fire to die behind his eyes. Beside him, Harry stirs. 

“Lou?”

Louis looks over at Harry, and the final puzzle piece slots into place, lining up the memories with the feeling in his chest. “Merlin,” he finally breathes aloud. Harry surges up and fits his mouth to Louis’. 

+++

Arthur remembers past reincarnations, countless lives and deaths, some with Merlin, some without. 

He remembers faces, different skin colors and locations and trends of dress. But it all fades into the same feeling of flesh meeting flesh, mouths and hands and sweat. Arthur pulls Merlin’s hips closer, drapes over his back to push his face into his neck, revel in the feeling of his warm skin and soft curls. 

When they fuck, it’s hurried, burning hot and bright, pushing forwards, unrelenting. 

+++

Arthur likes this life. It’s brilliant, spending his time making music with Merlin, no wars, no stupid nobility. The other blokes are great, and Eleanor. 

She is a godsend, really. Patient and kind and so, so understanding. She didn’t even blink when Arthur told her what was going on. She didn’t run, like he expected her to. She wanted to stay, to join them even. 

She is sure, steady, like a rock in a storm. She balances them out.

Arthur looks at her over Merlin’s shoulder, and she smiles. Arthur nods, turning to catch Merlin’s eye. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Merlin pants. He rocks a little on Arthur’s cock, pushing his own dick into Arthur’s stomach. Arthur feels Eleanor’s fingers brush over his balls, the base of his cock, and up to slide into Merlin alongside Arthur. Merlin grunts, and Arthur pushes up to kiss him, swallow his sounds. 

“M?” El asks, scraping her teeth over Merlin’s shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pants, rolling his hips. “Keep going.”

Her cock feels strange lined up with his, her small hand guiding them both into Merlin. It’s incredibly tight, and hot, and Arthur struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to see Merlin react, see El bite her lip in concentration, to watch his dick disappear with hers into Merlin’s ass. 

When they’re fully seated in Merlin, Arthur reaches out to grab El’s hip, feel the strap of the harness dig into her skin. She reaches down and squeezes his hand briefly. She checks in with Merlin once again. 

“Yeah, move, please.”

“Sure,” She smiles again, and Arthur’s chest fills with emotion. He’s so lucky he gets to have this. “Just relax and enjoy yourself, babe.”

Together, the three of them get a rhythm going, her out, him out, both of them back in. Moan, pant, repeat. Unsurprisingly, Merlin breaks first, spilling onto Arthur’s chest and stomach while Eleanor pants into his ear about how good he looks, stretched so wide around the both of them. Merlin clenches around them both, and it sends Arthur over the edge. 

Afterwards, when they’re curled together, clean and tired, Merlin giggles. 

“What?”

“Nothing, just, this is our life this time.”

Arthur thinks through all the shit they’ve been through, together and without each other. They really did luck out, this time. “Yeah, I can’t believe it either.”

* * *

**5**  
Crossover: One Direction

Harry Styles has been a wankered wanderer in his time, but opening his eyes to find he’s outside a pub called The Defiled Boar and wearing a ditch like a cape is a whole new level of _where the fuck..?_ Staggering to his feet, shoving his hair out of his eyes, he lurches to a tree, a blackbird whistling judgementally above. He waves one finger at it, picturing the headline: _In Need Of Re-Harr-bilitation?_ Pop star or not, if his mother finds out about this, she’s going to ground him for a decade.

He stumbles onto a dirt road; slope leading down to a sparkle of stream, while over the brow of the hill curls smoke. He heads for the latter because a) it’s away from the bastard sun, and b) it might be someone with weed.

~*~

All things considered, he’s having a craptacular day so it shouldn’t be a surprise when a gang of paparazzi spring from the trees and charge. Harry flinches anyway; some of them are in severe need of dentistry, and instead of brandishing cameras, bafflingly, they have swords.

As a blow lands on the back of his neck, he thinks, _oh. Ok. We’re not in Cheshire anymore_ , and everything goes soupy under his knees.

~*~

Waking with a groan, Harry blinks at a stone wall sticky with condensation, metal on his tongue. “Am I in prison?”

Some guy with lots of hair and mocking but soulful eyes crouches down next to him. “Welcome to indentured servitude.”

“Blow to the head, here – what’s –?”

“Just be glad you’re a pretty one. Decorative slaves tend to last the longest. I’m Gwaine.”

_Slave? Decorative? You’re too hot to be a Wayne._

Clutching the throb in his head, Harry digs his phone out of his pocket, thinking to text Liam – wonderful, sensible Liam – and tell him he’s in some sort of pit of despair and for once it’s not a metaphor for his Louis-shaped unrequiteds.

As his phone lights up, a guy sporting a loincloth and knock-off Uggs shouts, “Sorcery!” 

Wayne facepalms. “Oh, now you’ve really gone and done it.”

~*~

“So concussion is making me misunderstand the words ‘burnt at the stake’, right? There’s not going to be actual, like, flames?”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Pretty but not blessed intellectually, I see.” 

At the barred window of their cell, Harry – handcuffs cold tightness about his wrists and giving him an ill-advised hard-on – shakes his phone, trying to find enough signal to text his manager an SOS. Desperate times, etc..

~*~

“Last supper, then. What’ll it be?” The guard picks at his teeth, flicking bits of masticated bread at them.

“Just bring us ale,” Wayne says. “Lots of ale.”

Harry meets his eye, stomach stirring with arousal that won’t abate. “You’re my kind of guy.”

~*~

“Here’s a question, then.” Wayne waves his tankard, listing to the side as he sits on his heels, chains coiled around his knees. “What’s the one thing you never did that you really wanted to?”

“Louis Tomlinson. You?” 

“Nah, I done it all.”

Crinkles at the corners of his eyes as their gazes hold say he’s lying; regrets much, deeply. 

Huh. Harry’s always had a bit of thing for syrup-eyed inner torment. Ask Zayn. He bites the back of his own finger, imagining Wayne pulling his hair, manoeuvring him onto his knees, shoving him forward on the stone to fuck, whispering endearments even as his tug hurts.

“Don’t suppose you want to – ” He lifts a brow and lets his eyes trail down to Wayne’s crotch. 

Wayne really is his kind of guy, because he just smirks, and reaches for the knot of his belt.

~*~

Once, Harry joked about handcuffs on stage. Turns out the reality is heavier on chafing and clanking than he thought, but whatever.

Wayne pushes inside him, groaning at the new-fangled marvel that is lube, and claws fire up his back and across his scalp, counterpoint to the damp stone scraping Harry’s cheek.

~*~

Daylight. Outside, a crowd bays. Not unusual, except this one wants his body rendered cindered, not exposed. Harry sighs at the straw-tangled mop next to his. “Fix your hair. Die with dignity, man.”

“No one’s dying. I’ve a plan.” 

Harry kisses him, soft and earnest. “Meet me later at The Defiled Boar for a drink, then?”

“Now there’s an incentive to find my inner hero.” Wayne winks.

Harry laughs. “You’re trouble.”

“I’m salvation.” 

_Or maybe they’re always exactly the same thing._

* * *

**6**  
 **Fusion: Teletubbies**

_One day, in Camelotty Land, Art and Merly Werly decided to have sex._

_They had been working up to it for a long long while, taking their time and not rushing into things._

_First they held hands:_

“Hand Hugs!” Merly Werly shouted, jumping up and down, swinging their joined hands back and forth.

“Shut up, Merly Werly,” said Art. He sounded grumpy.

_Uh oh, Art said a bad word! He hurt Merly Werly’s feelings._

Merly Werly looked sad and pulled his hand away from the Hand Hug.

_Art, you need to say sorry!_

Art folded his arms. 

Merly Werly pouted.

_Look at how sad you’ve made Merly Werly! Say sorry, Art._

“Sorry, Merly Werly.” Art said quietly.

_I didn’t hear that, Art, did you, Merly Werly?_

Merly Werly shook his head.

_Say it like you mean it, Art._

Art turned to Merly Werly and reached out to take Merly Werly’s hand into a Hand Hug once more. 

“Sorry, Merly Werly.” 

“’s okay,” replied Merly Werly, and smiled. 

***

_Then they hugged:_

_Art spent all day frolicking outside with Gwennie, playing in the daisies, laughing and singing. When he finally came back to the Lotty Castle, Merly Werly looked sad._

“Why are you sad, Merly Werly?” 

“You were gone,” replied Merly Werly, curling up in the big comfy chaise.

“Yes.” Art didn’t get it.

“Missed you,” Merly Werly clarified, looking at Art with sad eyes.

“Oh,” said Art. He sat next to him. “You’re silly,” Art told him and wrapped his stocky red arms around Merly Werly. 

_Aww, Art hugged Merly Werly! Hug him back! Hug him back!_

Merly Werly turned to Art and wrapped his arms around him. They both smiled.

***

_Then they kissed:_

It was the day when Morgie decided she did not like Camelotty Land anymore and took her share of daisies, her favourite pillow, and half of the Lotty treasure with her. Art was sad.

“I’m sad,” Art said, resting his head on Merly Werly’s shoulder. 

“Maybe she’ll come back?” Merly Werly petted Art.

“She took her sleep juice.” 

Merly Werly gasped. Now he looked sad, too.

“Will everyone leave me?” Art asked, looking up at Merly Werly. “Will you?”

Merly Werly looked back, and shook his head, saying, “Never ever, Art. I will never leave you.”

Art smiled then, big and bright. “You’re the best, Merly Werly,” he told him. 

Merly Werly smiled back.

They leaned in closer and closer until their lips touched. 

_Merly Werly and Art were kissing. Let’s leave them alone._

*** 

_And so it went. But after the hand hugs and the body hugs and the kissing, Art and Merly Werly were ready for the next step:_

“Are you sure about this, Art?” Merly Werly asked, lying down on Art’s big comfy bed, in his soft, silky sheets. 

Art rubbed Merly Werly’s belly, making him vibrate and purr. He nodded. 

Merly Werly smiled at Art and kissed him, his tongue licking into Art’s mouth, meeting Art’s tongue in a dance. 

Art continued rubbing Merly Werly’s belly until the wand on the top of his head began to grow longer and thicker. 

Merly Werly broke away from the kiss and looked up at the top of Art’s head, where the usually small sceptre was opening into the shape of a crown, welcoming and open.

Art vibrated with pleasure when Merly Werly touched it, and clung to Merly Werly’s sides, thrusting his belly harder and harder against Merly Werly’s. Each movement made the crown at the top of his head open up and drip even more. 

“Do it,” commanded Art, angling the crown down, moving his head to give Merly Werly access. 

Merly Werly nodded, ran his hand through the slick crown, then over his wand, getting it wet. He angled his head, looking into Art’s eyes the whole time and held his wand in place as it slid through Art’s crown. 

Art vibrated on the bed, unable to hold still. Merly Werly moved his wand back and forth through Art’s crown, over and over. They clung to each other as the pleasure built. 

Art seemed to be getting close to release, body shaking, he held onto Merly Werly, tight. Merly Werly sped up and pushed harder and more until Art’s body went rigid, then stilled, Lotty custard leaking from his crown. 

Merly Werly only pushed his wand through a couple more times before Lotty custard spilled from him too. 

_Ew, Merly Werly and Art made a mess. Clean it--_

“Shut up,” said Art. 

_The End_

* * *

**7**  
Fusion: Narnia

She'd only meant to follow Merlin for a bit, since she didn't like him skulking around in her wardrobe and every other nook and cranny in the castle. But before she knew it she's lost sight of both him and the way back to the castle. Morgana was a grown woman but, unlike Arthur and Merlin, she hadn't been allowed to explore outside alone since she was a child.

If she'd planned to stay out this long she'd have brought her winter cloak and boots, and some meat pies and perhaps a flask of brandy. She'd have brought Gwen along to carry her things and keep her company, the way Merlin did for Arthur.

Instead she stood in the snow and shivered.

Morgana was greatly relieved to see a fine sledge come along, though surprised not to recognise the lady who drove it. She was tall and powerful, pale and blonde and dressed all in white furs, with a hard set to her handsome face.

"Lady Morgana," she called, "you must be freezing. Why don't you come and have a drink with me?"

"Do I know you?" Morgana said with a frown, though she didn't hesitate to step up and join her. 

The lady opened her cloak, and her skin underneath it was bare and warm to the touch when Morgana pressed against it. 

"My name is Morgause." 

The name meant nothing to Morgana, who was happy to sip from the cup Morgause offered her – something foamy and sweet that she couldn't name but that filled her with a sense of warmth and home. 

"In Camelot there are those who hate me, who would call me a witch and spread nasty rumours about me and my people. I am glad to see they've not poisoned your mind against me. Will you have something to eat as well?"

"Yes, please."

Morgause opened a box full of sweets, each square a different pale coloured gel dusted in white sugar and, Morgana soon found, each one with a different flavour. At first she thought she'd only have one or two, but each piece she tried was more delicious than the last, and she was curious to taste every one.

Morgause smiled indulgently, handed over the box, and put her arm around Morgana's shoulder. Then her other hand reached under Morgana's skirt to trace up the inside of her thigh. Morgana was surprised, for none of the suitors Uther approved nor any of her servants or friends had ever touched her there. It was different from touching herself – unpredictable, almost ticklish, but she didn't feel like laughing. Nervous, she squirmed, but she breathed deep and let her legs fall open a little to make room.

"You are my people as well. You know that, don't you, dear? We're sisters, of a kind."

"Yes," said Morgana, not sure what that meant yet, but very sure it was true.

When the box was empty Morgause kissed her on the mouth while her fingers went on climbing, slowly scissoring up and inside her, filling her core with heat. _More,_ she thought, wishing she could spread herself open, take her whole hand, that she could go on drinking and eating Morgause's gifts, and at the same time wishing this kiss would never end.

"I know," Morgause whispered when she finally drew away. "But it's not time yet. You live in the castle, yes? With Prince Arthur and the King?"

Morgana nodded. "I am the King's ward."

"Then I have a very important task for you. Once it's done you can have all the sweets and all the kisses you desire. And the two of us shall be queens together. That is what you want, isn't it, Morgana?"

*

Later, Morgana would lap and suck at the witch queen's sex while Morgause pulled her hair and laughed, "Hungry for it, aren't you?" Later she would know the poverty of exile and the sting of Morgause's whip on her back. She would kneel and beg for forgiveness from Morgause and Arthur both, not sure which she loved or hated more, and she would never be free of the bitterness of defeat.

But as she walked back to the castle that night, with the light snow falling on her hair and her borrowed cloak, Morgana pictured the powdered sugar on the sweets she would eat the next time she saw Morgause; she could already feel the magic taking root inside her and taste the heady heat of rebellion on her tongue.

* * *

**8**  
Fusion: _The Borrowers_ by Mary Norton

 

When Arthur was woken up by the feeling of tiny feet on his stomach, his first reaction, before he was properly awake, was to squirm frantically. It wasn’t until a little voice yelled,

“Hey, watch it!”

That he realised who was in his bed and equally frantically stilled himself. “Merlin?” He gingerly pushed himself up on his elbows. “That you? What the hell are you _doing_?”

Merlin’s response was too quiet for him to hear. Arthur reached over – very carefully, so as not to send Merlin flying to the floor – and turned on the bedside lamp. Merlin was, best as he could tell in the dim light, barefoot, and dressed in what was probably his own pyjamas. Not an ordinary borrowing expedition, then.

“You almost threw me off!” Merlin was kneeling now, gripping the skin of Arthur’s stomach with both tiny hands. 

“You were crawling around on my stomach! While I was asleep!” Arthur blinked, still not quite awake. “What are you doing here?”

“I dunno. It was hot. I couldn’t sleep.” Merlin relaxed his pinching grip and settled down amidst Arthur’s happy trail. “Wanted to talk.”

Arthur has long since come to terms that he will never get used to talking to a five-inch-tall man. It’s just too strange. Merlin is fascinatingly tiny, an intricate, miniscule miracle, and yet at the same time he was just as awkward and ordinary and _human_ as anyone else.

Now he was toying with the wispy blond hairs on Arthur’s stomach, looking completely at home, and Arthur can’t say he’d never thought about this, about having Merlin on his body. Oh, he’d thought about it. He honestly wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming right now. 

“What d’you want to talk about?” 

“I dunno.” Merlin shifted about, steadying himself against Arthur’s trembling.

“Can I pick you up?” Arthur blurted out.

“If you like.” Merlin clambered up onto Arthur’s hand eagerly – not at all like the first time, when he’d been so reluctant. Arthur remembered how he’d been struck by a sudden childish desire to play with Merlin like a doll.

“I was thinking about you, that’s all,” said Merlin as he settled himself on Arthur’s hand. “I couldn’t sleep, and I was thinking about you.”

Arthur nudged him with the tip of his thumb, and Merlin didn’t protest, so he nudged a little more, up against Merlin’s side. His fingers looked so huge and clumsy next to Merlin’s delicate body, but he wanted to touch so badly.

“D’you remember the first time I let you look at me?”

“Of course I do,” he said. How could he forget that?

“It was weird,” said Merlin, “I knew I shouldn’t be letting you see me, and I was scared, but – I liked it. I liked the way you looked at me. Still do.”

Arthur was starting to get hard now. Merlin glanced over his shoulder.

“Why’d you always look at me like that?” Arthur was stroking him now, running his thumb along Merlin’s chest, gentle, and Merlin didn’t complain.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur lied.

“Yeah, you do.” Merlin was smiling now – or Arthur thought he was, it was hard to get a proper look at his face. He shivered, pushed Arthur’s thumb away, and began to strip off his tiny shirt. His skin underneath was so soft and he hissed when Arthur touched him again. “Be careful?”

Arthur could break him so easily and they both know it. 

Merlin braced his hands against Arthur’s palm and pushed up, and suddenly Arthur was touching his crotch, his tiny prick, and any questions he may have had about Borrower anatomy were answered. He didn’t dare move. He couldn’t believe Merlin was letting Arthur touch him like this. Merlin must trust him more than he let on.

He let Merlin do the work instead, pushing himself up against Arthur’s fingers, letting out noises so soft and quiet that Arthur could barely make them out. His palm was sweating.

“Look at me.” Merlin’s head fell back. 

“Yeah,” said Arthur, voice hoarse, and Merlin came, tiny body seizing up in Merlin’s palm, and _god_ this was really happening, Arthur felt a little light headed. He was aching hard.

Merlin slumped back against Arthur’s hand with a satisfied moan. It took Arthur a while to find his voice.

“So you wanted to _talk_ , then?” 

“Uh huh,” said Merlin. Arthur closed his hand around Merlin’s prone body a little, and Merlin seemed to like that, seemed to like being held.

* * *

**9**  
Crossover with [Rocknrolla](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RocknRolla)

'It's no life, pining after a straight bloke,' said Handsome Bob the first time he met Merlin, having a smoke and watching a game of poker. 

'Yeah? And who gives a fuck what you think?' Merlin said, friendly-like. Bob, not that Merlin knew his name at that point, grinned at him and sat down uninvited. 'Takes one to know one, anyway,' Merlin added, eyeing Bob and where his eyes kept flicking to at the poker table, and using a touch of his power. 

Bob didn't deny it. 

Arthur comes to the Speeler to play poker with Mumbles, One Two, and the rest of the Wild Bunch, and Merlin comes to keep him out of trouble. This lifetime round, Arthur's oblivious; tough and gorgeous, the heir to his father's dirty dealings, and he doesn't remember a damn thing. And he's straight. Merlin, as far as he knows, is just his best mate. 

Handsome Bob is a member of the Wild Bunch, and One Two happens to be Handsome Bob's best mate. Oh yes. Like that. So maybe Merlin and Bob have one or two things in common.

It doesn't take them long to start fucking in the bogs, because Merlin's resigned to waiting and Bob's done with it. So why the fuck not?

Bob's a good lay, too. He took all of five minutes to figure Merlin out, the first time, and then turned him around to brace against the wall, and gave him the fingering of his life. Neither of them had been expecting it, so no condoms, no lube, but Bob'd used spit and gentleness, and Merlin had arched his back and taken what he was given, because _fuck_ , yeah, more of that.

He'd then blown Bob to the point of incoherence. Job well done.

This time though, they've got supplies and time.

'You gonna make me feel it?' Merlin demands, shoving his arse out and leaning against the wall as per spec. 'Make it worth my while, yeah?'

'Fuck you,' says Bob amiably, swatting Merlin's arse before shoving his trousers down. 'I'm always worth your while.'

'So do fuck me, then, while I'm still awake,' Merlin returns, fake-yawning over the gasp that comes from Bob spreading him open. 'You -'

'Nah, babe, shhh,' says Bob, and the clinking behind Merlin suggests that Bob's getting rid of his trousers. His fingers come back slick. 'Let a man work, yeah?'

Merlin's happy to. Fucking yes, very happy to.

The fingering isn't as thorough this time, but Bob's cock is thick and slick and the stretch as he nudges in is just what Merlin wants. Bob tucks his palm around one of Merlin's hipbones, fingers digging in, and his other hand he braces on the wall beside Merlin's head. 'Now,' says Bob when he's deep in, deep as he can be, and Merlin's legs are bracing as wide as he can get them. 'Are you gonna be a good lad for me?' He shunts into Merlin when he says it, and Merlin can't help the _'unnnnh'_ noise he makes.

'Fuck, yes,' he breathes, desire to be contrary already gone. 'Give it to me.'

Bob does, good and hard. He drags himself out and drives himself back in, and he nails Merlin's prostate and grins against his shoulder when Merlin whines and scrabbles against the wall, shoving so that he can support himself on one hand and reach the other down to his cock. 

'Oh no,' says Bob. 'Can't have you doing that, babe,' and the hand on Merlin's hip grabs his hand and forces it flat against his stomach. 'Keep it there instead,' Bob says, pressing down and thrusting himself back in again, and Merlin feels it good and proper, inside and out.

'Fuck, fuck, oh _fuck_ …' he gasps, and comes all over himself and over Bob's hand.

'Christ,' says Bob faintly, the plush shape of his mouth and the bite of his teeth raw against Merlin's shoulder, and he comes too, just as quiet. Stealthy, the pair of them. 

*** 

'It's no life, pining after a straight bloke,' Bob says to Merlin again when they're cleaning up.

'It'll do, though, for now,' says Merlin, shrugging. Bob grins at him. He knows.

* * *

**10**  
 **Fusion - Good Omens by Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett**

It wasn't that they were friends. Angels weren't _friends_ with demons. He'd tried to maintain a respectable hostility, but. They were both the longest-serving agents of their respective kinds on earth. As generation after generation of humans sparked, bright, and faded out, Merlin remained the one familiar face. One...grew accustomed. 

So he noticed straight away that something was different. Merlin's ever-present sunglasses hid his telltale yellow eyes, and normally looked awkwardly out of place. Tonight, they somehow looked... _cool_. Merlin's cheekbones looked particularly wicked in this light, suddenly, though they'd frequented the Ritz and sat under these same lights for twenty years now. 

"No. No, no, no. You're _smoldering_. At _me_."

"I'll be fired, Arthur! Don't make me go back down there. I _like_ earth. Tempting an angel would more than fill my quota."

Arthur's throat felt dry. "An angel can't be tempted." 

"So you'll be fine!" Merlin said, like that made sense. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of it. I have," Merlin said. That was new information. 

Arthur licked his parched lips. He took another sip of wine. "Lust is a sin."

"And greed?" Merlin asked. "I know you're keeping an eye on that Assyrian sword in Belfast."

"That man doesn't deserve to call himself a collector, with the state he's keeping it in!" 

Merlin put his hand atop Arthur's. Arthur took another hasty gulp of wine. 

"Envy. Wrath," said Merlin, and grinned. He'd always had a particularly guileless grin for someone with his job description. Perhaps that was what made him effective as the adversary. Arthur pulled his hand from beneath Merlin's and put it uselessly, upon his fork. He'd finished his dessert. 

"Gluttony," Merlin said, taking a bite from his own half-finished chocolate cake. Normally he let Arthur sample the other half without comment, and he could hardly do that _now_ , could he? "And don't get me started on pride. Not with you, _angel_."

Arthur flushed. Mm. "That does look nice on you," Merlin said. 

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked.

"Arthur. Please. I could tempt, Hell, any number of them," he said, sweeping his arm at the bright, temporary humans around them. "But I'd rather--we're--" 

Arthur found himself leaning forward, needing the end of that thought, but Merlin saw, and now he flushed and cleared his throat. "Never mind. This was stupid. I just thought, you know, no harm in trying, right?"

Arthur wasn't so sure. In fact, the harm might be quite serious, he realized as he watched Merlin's face growing even pinker, Merlin pulling off his sunglasses, the dark sweep of his eyelashes as he buffed the glasses with a napkin, and then Arthur was saying, "My place, then." 

Merlin's head shot up, his eyes searching, then said, "I'll drive." 

Yes. Definitely lasting damage. Permanent, even.

"Oh, G-...oh, oh, dear," Arthur managed to not-quite gasp. Though perhaps dignity was out the window at this point. His cock was curving into Merlin's hands, leaking from the tip until Merlin, unbelievably, dipped down and licked it away with one swipe. 

"Please." If this was what most humans felt like all the time, it was no wonder they were all so...the way they were.

Merlin pushed him onto his back and slithered to Arthur's waist. He shot one long, golden look at Arthur. It felt terribly frank, without the sunglasses, with Merlin in his bed after millennia of waiting.

"Merlin," he breathed, and then Merlin dropped his gaze and swallowed Arthur down.

 

Arthur didn't have much cause for sleep. Merlin indulged often, and was now breathing slowly, one arm draped hot and a little crushingly across Arthur's ribs, his cock nestled between Arthur's buttocks.

He closed his eyes, expecting long dragging awareness before sleep took him, and instead opened them again to find it was now morning. 

"I could, er. My plants at my apartment need watering," Merlin said. Arthur sighed, turning over. He gave Merlin the sternest look he could muster with Merlin's hair sticking up like that and pillow creases on his cheek. Merlin grinned, finally. It was possible Arthur had been purposefully using stern looks to elicit that grin for longer than himself had been strictly aware of.

"Or I could go make us some coffee," Merlin said.

"Let's stay. Just for a bit," he murmured, and rolled onto Merlin to keep him there. If his cock nudged against Merlin's, just there, it was purely coincidence.

"Sloth," Merlin said, and kissed him hard.

* * *

**11**  
Fusion: Teen Wolf 

Merlin tripped, his foot catching in a branch and only his enhanced reflexes kept him from face planting in the dirt of the forest floor. Instead he caught himself, rocks and twigs cutting into his hands. Claws dug into his arm as he was pulled to his feet and crushed to another man’s chest.

“Be still.” a harsh voice whispered in his ear and a bullet shattered a tree only a few feet away as he was pulled back into the shadows.

Hunters shouted to each other and the body behind him was tensed. The hunters started moving in the opposite direction from where they were hiding and Merlin felt the same relief as the man holding tightly to him. 

Merlin was shoved away and into a nearby tree, Arthur’s eyes flashing red as he glared at him “What we’re you thinking leaving so soon after the full moon. I told you there were in the area.”

“I didn’t think they’d be so close.” Merlin shouted back, refusing to back down as relief and terror warred within him. He’s been running for what had felt like hours, his heart in his throat and the memory of bullets burning in his skin from the last time he had encountered hunters. He knew one of them, he remembered the smell, his voice. They would have given up on the chase if Uther hadn’t been the one leading them. Arthur had told them to stay until he’d gotten back. Merlin just had never been good at listening to him, even if he was the Alpha. 

“That’s your problem Merlin.” Arthur boxed him against a tree, his voice low “You never think, you never listen. If I tell you something you follow.” Arthur’s hand moved over his throat, claws digging into his skin as he whispered in his ear “I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

Merlin closed his eyes and breathed out, relaxing and tilting his neck to the side, baring it to Arthur. “I know, I’m sorry,” and he was. He remembered what hunters had done to Freya, to Will, to so many of their pack. They were always on the move, always trying to find somewhere safe to rest. Merlin knew Arthur must have smelled him too, always dogging their steps, determined to kill the son that had turned into a monster and the pack he had built. 

Arthur breathed out, the red bleeding out of his eyes back to their usual blue and he pressed his forehead to Merlin’s, his hand cupping the back of his neck. “If I lost you…” he breathed unable to finish the sentence.

“You won’t.” Merlin reassured him.

Arthur kissed him, lips biting at his and Merlin trembled. They didn’t have time for more, the others would worry. So they kissed, pressed tightly to each other. They would have time later, after they had moved the pack again. They would find another home and Arthur would be able to take his time, open him open, and fuck him where the entire pack could hear. He would re stake his claim on Merlin’s body again, inside and out.

One day they would stop running. Because Merlin was tired and it was only a matter of time before Uther and his hunters caught up to them. When Arthur had become the Alpha they had only been teenagers, newly turned and scared. Uther had burned through Merlin’s skin trying to kill him and Arthur had barely saved him in time. He hadn’t gotten there in time to save Will and Freya. 

It didn’t matter to Uther that they had been turned against their will, it didn’t matter to him that Arthur had used the skills he’d been taught by his father to kill the Alpha that had turned him. He wanted them dead and they had ran. 

They hadn’t stopped running, and had gathered other strays as they did. Their pack was growing and soon Arthur would stop running and kill his father. Morgana had told him and the closer the time came the more Merlin was ready.

* * *

**12**  
Fusion: Inception

Arthur stood in front of a floor length mirror, staring and growing more depressed by the minute at the sight of his own face staring back. Merlin bragged that he had mastered his first Forge in under ten minutes, dream time. It had been almost thirty now.

Arthur frowned at his stubbornly Arthurian reflection. What was he doing wrong?

“Oh Arthur, don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard.”

Arthur’s eyes snapped up to the other reflection in the mirror. The woman behind him looked like she could be related to Morgana, with higher cheekbones and mirthful blue eyes. It was a Forge Arthur had seen before.

“Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur tried to turn his attention back to his own work, but it was hard when the Forger walked forward and plastered his feminine form against Arthur’s back. “Who are you trying to become?” Merlin’s voice slipped back down into his normal range, and behind Arthur’s back he suddenly felt Merlin’s flat chest, but the image of the female Merlin still smirked at him from the mirror. It was disconcerting.

“Gwaine.” Arthur had chosen the other man because despite various aesthetic differences they were of a similar build. He figured it would be a good idea to start with something simple.

Unfortunately, it seemed Merlin didn’t agree. He clicked his tongue. “Oh Arthur, that won’t work at all. It’s got to be someone you know well. Someone you’ve studied enough to know their every tic and scar and eyelash.” Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist from behind. “Try me.”

“Uh…” Arthur fidgeted. “Won’t that be difficult? And weird?”

“Not at all.” There was another shift against Arthur’s back, and when he looked up at Merlin’s reflection again he saw a pair of his own eyes looking back, but with Merlin’s smirk bubbling underneath.

“Yeah, that’s really odd.”

“Oh, not so much.” Merlin reached around with Arthur’s hand, which was strange, and slid it up under Arthur’s shirt. Arthur’s eyes were glued on the mirror. “Actually, I think the word you’re looking for is _hot_. Ridiculously so.”

Arthur had to admit Merlin had a point, narcissistic sounding as it was. The hunger in his own eyes directed at him had Arthur hard in a second.

“You know what the best thing about dreams is?” Merlin asked, in Arthur’s voice. Arthur shook his head, both to answer and to show that was going a step too far. Merlin switched back to his own voice. “The best thing is that I don’t even have to prepare you in a dream. I can fuck right into you with your own thick dick and you can feel every inch of what you always do to me.”

Arthur couldn’t help his pants of excitement as Merlin stripped him with a thought and pressed him up against the mirror. “You know what? I’ll make you a bet.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, now.” Merlin gave Arthur a nip on the shoulder. “If you can forge me, now, I’ll let you tie me to the bed again tonight.”

“You’re on,” Arthur replied at once.

Merlin chuckled. “You are too predictable, Arthur. That’s why you’re so easy to forge, you know? I know exactly what you’ll do in every situation. Even this one.” Arthur’s eyes widened as his own cock slid into his body.

“ _Fuck_!”

“Good, isn’t it?” Merlin slowly pressed his hips forward until they were against Arthur’s arse. “This is what you do to make me scream.”

Arthur was lost for words as Merlin began to snap his hips forward in a vicious rhythm. It took a few minutes for him to regain his bearings enough to focus on his challenge.

 _Think about Merlin,_ he chanted to himself. Arthur closed his eyes, and instead of trying to block out the burning weight of his own cock he imagined the way it looked sliding in and out of Merlin when they were tangled together in a sweaty heap. He forced his mind to put himself in Merlin’s place instead of his own this time. With the outside stimulation, it wasn’t too hard.

Slowly, so slowly, he could feel something twist inside of him, and then, with a pop…

“That’s it! You’ve done it!”

Arthur’s eyes flew open, but in the mirror he met not his own eyes, but Merlin’s.

“Come for me,” Merlin whispered, but in the reflection it was himself who had whispered it to Merlin, and Merlin’s reflection came all over the mirror.

* * *

**13**  
Cross-over: X-Men

“I met this bloke today,” Merlin says, walking into their flat and dropping his bag on the floor unceremoniously.

Arthur gives him a dark look from the armchair.

“Oh, come off it. I don't mean like _that_. He was just really interesting. We bonded over being British.”

“You fake your accent,” Arthur scowls.

“I don't fake it. I choose it. I'm proficient in many accents.”

“Okay, so you bonded over being fake-British.”

“Well, I heard him talking to the barista who'd made his coffee. I looked over and then we kind of made eye contact and-”

“This still sounds like a chick flick.”

“Shut up. We made eye contact and he almost spat out his drink all over everything and started coughing and went all red. Then he wheeled over to me all excited and called me _Merlin_ of all things – like anyone has actually used that name for a few centuries – and started getting all politely excited.”

“This guy sounds like a nut. Also, _I_ call you Merlin.”

“Yes, I know, darling. But no one else does. Anyway, he finally introduced himself and what do you know? He's that famous telepath that's been on the telly lately talking about mutant rights. He was surprised because he'd read my mind and realized I was the _real_ Merlin who knew the _real_ King Arthur.”

“Let me guess: you had lunch and went all goo-goo, ga-ga at each other and discussed magic and science and stuff.”

“I might choose a more eloquent description for it. But... mostly, yeah.” 

Merlin huffs slightly in annoyance, but drapes himself sideways across Arthur's lap in any case, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair.

“Did he think your magic was a mutation?”

“Yes. I told him it wasn't.”

“You've had it for thousands of years. You came first.”

“This isn't some chicken and egg battle, Arthur. He's never seen magic before and he's a scientist, you know. So he was certain it's some kind of crazy mutation where I can alter the fabric of space-time or something. But really, with all the faeries, dragons, trolls, and absolutely ridiculous stuff we've seen, I'm much more inclined to believe it's magic. He asked to meet again and get a blood sample so he could-”

Merlin talks too much sometimes, most of the time, really, but the words taste sweet in Arthur's mouth when he interrupts them with lips and tongue and sometimes fingers if he feels like it. Merlin's words dissolve into delicious mouthfuls of noise instead.

Sometimes, when Arthur pulls away for breath, Merlin has stopped and a flush has risen on his cheeks and tinted his ears red. Sometimes, Merlin just keeps going where he left off and Arthur is forced to repeat the process as many times as it takes until Merlin shuts up.

“Magic and science go hand in hand sometimes, I'm not saying they don't. But my magic isn't anything like their mutations-”

So Arthur interrupts him again, slides his tongue past Merlin's lovely lips and licks the words from every crevice of his mouth. He nudges and tugs at Merlin until he shifts, sitting up to straddle Arthur instead, and not once does Arthur allow their mouths to part for more than a moment.

He slides warm fingertips under the hem of Merlin's t-shirt and fits hands around the curve of his hips and waist. He presses thumbs into the little indentations and smiles against Merlin's mouth at the way his hands fit just so. He's done this a hundred, a thousand times before, but it's one of those things he'll never get tired of no mater how many times he does it.

Loving Merlin is a process that takes lifetimes to perfect. But it's okay because Arthur has lifetimes to spare and there is perhaps nothing he wants so much as to succeed in loving Merlin perfectly in every way. There are other things he wants, things that ebb and flow with each passing century, with each reawakening into himself, but Merlin has always been that one constant thing.

Arthur nudges Merlin up a little and Merlin obliges as Arthur wiggles out of his trousers and underwear. Then Merlin settles back down in his lap snugly and starts rocking his hips, making them both groan.

Between one slow thrust and the next, Merlin's clothing is gone, likely magicked away. Whether it's mutation or magic or the power of the Earth and all the realms beyond, Merlin has always had that devious streak that uses his magic for nefarious ends and there is never a moment when Arthur isn't secretly pleased about it.

* * *

**14**  
 **Crossover: The Avengers**

**Tag Team**

A sly elbow-nudge to the ribs and Arthur looks from the TV to Merlin, who grins like an imp and silently mouths: _Watch this._

Merlin leans forward with his elbows on spread knees, a longneck dangling loosely from his fingers. He stretches and yawns with an outrageous little mewl, all lean, long and sinewy, and at the other end of the couch, Steve stiffens.

When Merlin takes a long, lazy pull of beer, Steve’s eyes follow the shape of Merlin’s mouth around the longneck’s lip.

Holy snapping duckshit. Merlin’s gaydar was right.

Merlin grins, and nudges Arthur with his knee. _Want to?_

Out of Steve’s line of sight, Arthur gently rubs the seam along Merlin’s jeans, up and down with his finger.

Arthur clears his throat. “So, how’s it going with Tony?”

Steve looks like he’s choking on his own spit, coughs uncontrollably for a minute and sits up really, really straight. “What do you--?”

“Nothing. It’s just. Well.” Arthur pauses for maximum effect. “Forget I said anything.” He pretends to be immersed in the footie game they’re watching, waiting for the inside of Steve’s head to start eating itself.

He palms Merlin’s thigh, digging in a little with his fingertips. It smacks of _having_ and Arthur can almost feel the heat from Steve’s eyeballs like a trail of burning rubber revved on the back of his hand.

Steve shunts forward until he’s on the edge of the seat. “All right. What about Tony?”

Arthur shrugs. “You fucking yet?”

Merlin breaks out the biggest shit-eating grin when Steve, Captain Motherfucking America, erupts into a flurry of panicky giggles.

“What? No! What?” he squeals the way a man of his stature never should.

“It’s understandable,” Arthur continues. “Must be hard getting back in the swing.”

Steve’s nervous giggling stops abruptly. “There was never a swing.”

Merlin hums. “Well. We _could_ talk about how Tony hasn’t had a chance to corrupt you. Yet,” he says, sliding off the couch onto his knees and shuffling to kneel between Steve’s feet. He grins wolfishly. “ _Or_ , we could go straight to the part where I suck your cock harder than a vampire hooker while Arthur watches. What do you say?”

Arthur thinks if Steve nodded any more violently, his head would fall off.

~*~*~

Contrary to his promise, Merlin doesn’t suck hard, not at the start, anyway. With Arthur alongside them on the couch, Merlin goes about Steve like he’s a gourmet meal.

He spreads him out, holding his big thighs apart with a firm grip, and Steve’s eyes are like saucers. He has a fantastic cock; Merlin thinks so too, if the _It’s Fucking Christmas!_ written on his face is any indication. Looking at Arthur with huge eyes, he waves a game-show flourish over it and says, “Merlin Emrys, come on down!” Arthur laughs, Steve reaches for his pants but Merlin slaps his hands away, diving face-first into his crotch. Arthur knows Steve doesn’t stand a chance against Merlin’s cocksucking lips once they’ve acquired their target.

Merlin teases first, kissing and kitten-licking Steve’s thighs. He doesn’t go anywhere near Steve’s rapidly filling cock, just nuzzles into his sac and licks all around it, worrying it with open-mouth kisses until Steve’s head thunks backward into the couch with a groan that’s bordering on pain.

Merlin mouths Steve’s balls and flicks his tongue all along the seam, alternating between teasing and long slides of his tongue that have Arthur squirming, too. By the time Merlin’s mouth actually descends on Steve’s cock, all three of them are breathless and wound-up. Merlin takes him down wet and so fucking slow, and Steve moans like he’s dying.

Arthur loves the way Merlin sucks cock, cradling and laving the underside with his tongue while working a hot suck over all he can fit in his mouth. Watching Steve get the treatment makes him feel heavy and swollen all over, thick with lust.

Steve’s eyes roll back, so Arthur hikes up Steve’s t-shirt and fingers Steve’s nipples into hard kernels. And _fuck_ , that might be Steve’s big dick filling Merlin’s mouth, but it’s _Arthur_ Merlin’s eyes are pinned to. It’s _Arthur_ he’s watching when he finally brings Steve off with his hand, come splattering all over his mouth, dripping off his chin.

“His mouth’s made for sucking dick, isn’t it? Not only does it shut him up, but finally, _something_ he’s good at,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing Merlin’s grinning, filthy face. Steve groans incoherently.

“Your turn?” Merlin says, and it’s all Arthur can do not to leap over Steve like he’s a hurdle.

* * *

**15**  
Fusion: Escaflowne

Merlin wakes with a splitting headache. Why the magic beam of blue light can’t set him down softly, he’ll never understand. Slowly, he cracks an eye open and smiles at the man sitting beside him.

“Arthur,” he whispers. He sits up and reaches for him, afraid this may be a dream.

“Merlin.” Arthur says as he leans down and nuzzles into him, arms wrapping around his waist. “I’ve missed you.”

He pulls back and kisses Arthur firmly on the mouth, grabbing his shoulders and tugging him in close. He’s waited three years to do this, always regretting he hadn’t kissed him goodbye in the first place. Apparently Arthur feels the same, because there’s no hesitation as he pushes him down into the bed and crawls up his body. He’s hovering just above Merlin, body heat surrounding him, warming him to his core.

“Why did you call for me? Is everything ok on your Earth?” Arthur murmurs into his collarbone before suckling on the skin there.

“Everything’s fine. I couldn’t stay away any longer. I belong with you here on Gaea.” Merlin replies, head swimming with need and want as Arthur drags a hand up his side and underneath his shirt.

“You know I’m King.” The seriousness that slips into Arthur’s tone makes him pause. Maybe he’d been wrong to presume Arthur would wait for him. Maybe he had a Queen now. The thought physically hurts and makes his chest vibrate with pain and jealousy. 

“I know.” Merlin says softly as he pulls Arthur’s red shirt up and over his head. His heart constricts and burns with happiness as he sees his own pendant hanging around Arthur’s neck.

He’s silent as he slowly maps the plains of his chest. He looks different now; he’s grown into a man with broad shoulders and defined muscles. His skin is sun kissed and leathery to the touch; no doubt from long hours spent rebuilding Fanelia.

“If you stay by my side, it will be complicated. The council is already angry enough I have yet to take a wife.” Arthur says, eyes worried, but full of hope.

Merlin smiles and wraps his arms around the King’s neck. “I’m the seer from the Mystic Moon. I have to have some credibility around here.”

The answering grin is beautiful and breathtaking, and when they kiss it feels like Merlin is finally home. Arthur moans into his mouth and greedily runs his fingers through his hair, over his face and down his sides to his hips. Each touch is a bolt of electricity zipping through his body, leaving him raw around the edges.

He reaches between them and unties Arthur’s laces, pulling his pants down with shaking hands. “Fuck me.” Merlin whines into the divot of Arthur’s shoulder, grinding his hips up to meet his Kings.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” Arthur says reverently before kissing his forehead, then his temple, cheek, and finally his lips. “Promise me you’re staying.”

“I promise.” He answers and cups Arthur’s cheek with his hand, attempting to reassure him. 

His King strips them down and prepares him slowly with one, then two, generously slick fingers. He’s never been touched before and the sensations are foreign and slightly painful, but oh so good. The air is thick with the scent of precome and sweat and Merlin can’t ever remember feeling so out of his mind with happiness.

He watches as Arthur slicks his cock and lines himself up at his entrance. Merlin grips his biceps and locks eyes with him as he slowly, carefully, pushes inside. It burns and hurts, but Arthur takes his time and pauses once he’s fully seated, allowing him to adjust.

He feels full and complete and doesn’t think it can get any better until Arthur shudders and his wings burst from his back.

_Oh._

He had forgotten how gorgeous they are. Tentatively, he reaches out and runs his hand along the soft white feathers. “You’re beautiful.” Merlin says, knowing it’s a gift he gets to see them, knowing how his wings brings up painful memories of his lost mother and the shame of being a Draconian.

Arthur sighs at the touch and dips his head down to rest on his shoulder. They writhe together, giving and taking what they need until Merlin can’t hold it in any longer and comes in hot spurts over their stomachs. Arthur is not far behind, and finishes with a shout.

Just as he’s falling asleep, he hears Arthur whisper, “welcome home.”

* * *

**16**  
Fusion: Lord of the Rings

“Why am I not surprised you’re here? It only figures Balinor would send his best and brightest dragonrider. Of course it helps that you happen to be his son and heir, doesn’t it, _Mer_ lin?”

Merlin let out a small sigh. “Hello, Arthur.”

Arthur was leaning back against the pedestal that held the broken pieces of his ancestor’s sword. Excalibur. The very sword that cut the Ring from the hand of Sauron. The same sword that would be Arthur’s; were he to acknowledge his birthright. 

Decades ago, Merlin had tried to convince him to have it mended, to take it up and claim his rightful place as King of Gondor. They could have ruled together; Man and Elf. But Arthur would have none of it. He fled and became a ranger of the West, a wanderer. And Merlin stayed to fulfill his role as heir to King Balinor, as a dragonrider, and as the pride of Mirkwood.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he stared down the elf. He sniffed disdainfully and looked away. “I really shouldn’t be surprised. Balinor sends his son to ‘watch over’ the Ring of Power, when really he just wants it for himself. And you, like a good little son, race to do his bidding. You disappoint me, Merlin.”

“And you believe so little of me,” It wasn’t a question. “You’ve changed, Arthur.”

At that, Arthur’s head whipped back around. “Of course I’ve changed, Merlin. I’m not who I used to be. I’m not the same boy who was in love with you all those years ago. Everything is different now, isn’t it?”

And that made Merlin let out a mirthless laugh. “So I have heard. How is dear Gwen by the way? Asked for her hand yet?”

Arthur sneered, and then suddenly he was across the room and within centimeters of Merlin’s face. Ignoring Merlin’s slight inhale he grabbed the elf’s arms. “Do not speak, of what you do not know about,” he bit out.

His face wiped of its smile, Merlin could only blink at the intense blue gaze that was so close to his face. Both man and elf were breathing heavily, the warmth of it ghosting between them and over each others’ lips. Merlin swallowed thickly.

“Arthur, I –”

A pair of lips crashing roughly to his made him cut short. Merlin let out a small keening sound. Hands grappled and tunics tugged aside and then completely off. Merlin’s back slammed into the stone wall as Arthur attacked his neck with hungry kisses, and he could do nothing but moan and squirm at the biting feeling of the ranger’s teeth on his delicate skin.

Arthur’s hands were slowly making their way down Merlin’s sides, blunt nails digging in and leaving red trails. Merlin hissed clutching at Arthur’s broad shoulders. 

“Arthur, Arthur wait. Wait,” Merlin babbled uselessly, even as his own hips stuttered forward, straining to feel Arthur’s hardness against his own. “Arthur. What about – What about Gwen?” 

Instead of ceasing his movements as Merlin thought he would have, his words only seemed to urge Arthur on more. His hand buried into Merlin’s trousers and wrapped around his throbbing cock, giving a firm stroke that had Merlin groaning loudly. Arthur bit harshly into Merlin’s neck before lifting his head to speak into Merlin’s pointed ear.

“Oh Merlin. You know I never cared for her. Not like I did for you. Like I _do_ for you.”

A whimper tore itself from Merlin’s throat. He could vaguely feel Arthur’s smile against his ear lobe, but all that was forgotten as the hand on his cock started tugging and squeezing and then there was a mouth on his neck again and all the sensations were too much, too much. And with a last gasping, drawn out sob, Merlin was spilling hot and wet over Arthur’s hand and slumping loosely between his chest and the wall.

There was a beat of silence after, only their heavy breathing between them. Merlin vaguely registered the wet patch across Arthur’s groin. Merlin’s voice, when he finally spoke, was a whisper. His head hung in embarrassment and a little bit of self-pity. “We should go. The Council will be meeting soon.”

Two fingers lifted his chin, which he reluctantly obeyed. He found himself under the intense blue gaze once again.

“I meant it Merlin. No matter what happens. Whatever this business with the Ring, or Mordor, or any of it. I will _always_ love you. That I promise.”

And, finally, Merlin believed him.

* * *

**17**  
Fusion: [the Diadem series](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diadem_\(book_series\))

+++

He fucks his way across the Outer Rim.

On Ordin, he hides in a castle keep and fumbles in dark corners with a man whose face he can't see. He slips his hand in quick, around the unfamiliarity of the sword belt, and jerks once, twice, other arm tight around the man's shoulders.

"You," the man says, after. He grasps at Merlin's hips and finds denim. "What are you wearing?"

In the dimness, the man might be blonde. Not that it matters.

+++

On Calomir, he lazes in the virtual, remembering the girl he'd lost. He'd seen her at the corner of a forum, dark-haired, mouth a soft, curious twist. He'd said, "Want to get out of here?" and she'd smiled. They'd fucked on a virtual lakeshore, and she'd looked sweet but had scratched up his back like a cat.

He'd sensed the spark in her.

"Want to get out of here?" he'd said in the afterglow, and he hadn't meant between VR settings—he'd meant between planets, between galaxies. He'd wanted to take her inward, ever inward, to the worlds where magic shivered in the air, was tangible on your tongue, made you feel more and more alive until it was too much to bear.

She hadn't made it far.

+++

On Earth he goes to the dirtiest, dingiest bar he can find, but the man he finds there isn't dingy at all. He's bright with life, taking Merlin home and fucking him to a hoarse, aching mess, kissing him like he's something to be savored.

"Stay," the man says into the pillow, hair a silky cascade over his face. "I'll make you breakfast. Pancakes."

Merlin bundles tight under the covers with him, but is gone before dawn.

+++

He likes the eastern sunsets on Ordin. He likes the man in the belowground passages better.

"I looked for you," the man breathes, biting at Merlin's neck, hands everywhere. He's clearly hungry for it so Merlin eases him down, undoes his zip and gifts him his cock. The man pauses, breathing harshly, then takes it into his mouth, whimpering, like he's never done it before. From what Merlin knows of Ordin, he probably hasn't.

The man's mouth is lush, comfortable, and his moans as he touches himself bring Merlin off easily. He's indulgent as the other man licks up his come, tentative—then takes a finger and smears the rest over the man's lips.

"God," the man says, wrecked, and almost sobs as he comes.

They sit for a long time on the stone floor.

"Who are you?" The man holds Merlin's wrist, says, "Please. I want to know you're near."

There is vulnerability in this admission, and Merlin wants to honor it. Instead, he taps the gemstones at his belt and slips the man into peaceful sleep, easing his head carefully onto the stones.

+++

He goes back to Calomir. He wants to remember the girl as she'd been on Dondar, flushed with adventure and magic under a purple sky. Instead he finds the AI the girl's parents have made of their daughter—she's just as sweet as before, but doesn't remember him. He thinks of kissing her anyway, but it feels wrong.

+++

On Earth he broods.

"Penny for your thoughts?" someone says. It's the man with the silky hair, and he's holding out a penny in the palm of his hand.

"How did you find me?" Merlin asks, and takes the penny.

"Magic, sweetheart," the man says, and Merlin can't help but smile. "Come back to mine and I'll cook you those pancakes I promised."

It's a bad idea, but Merlin accepts. The sex is good, slick and satisfying, but somehow the pancakes are better.

"So when will I see you again?" the man asks, bumping his hip against Merlin's.

"I'm a traveler," Merlin says, looking away. "I'm never in one place for too long."

"Even better!" the man says. "I'll come along."

Merlin hesitates.

The man says, "I'm Gwaine," like it's not important.

There's power in a name. Merlin has tried for a long time to avoid them, but maybe—maybe this is something that can't be avoided.

"Alright then, Gwaine," Merlin says, trying out the words on his lips.

Maybe he doesn't have to be alone.

+++

On Ordin, Merlin leaves Gwaine exploring, and finds the man in the underground passage, head in his hands.

"Want to get out of here?" he asks, tentative.

The man looks up, and says, "Yes."

Merlin gives his name.

* * *

**18**  
Fusion: The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal

** The Less Than Epic Adventures of Elyan and Gwaine **

Gwaine likes to sing bawdy songs while they drive, one arm propped on the open window and the other gesturing expansively (and rudely) along with the lyrics. Whether he's still drunk this morning is an open question. His breath smells of honey and hops whenever he turns, his body loose and radiating heat from the passenger seat. Elyan feels his face heat up involuntarily.

He has no idea why Gwaine suggested paying for food and lodging for space in Elyan's old Toyota, but the arrangement has been...interesting. Twice now they've had to remove themselves quickly from a town, hitting the highway fast and hoping Elyan's old beat-up car could outrun anyone who had a mind to follow them. The second time, Elyan had to go to the next town over with Gwaine's money and buy Gwaine some new trousers.

Yet Gwaine's wallet never seems to empty. Another thing Elyan doesn't ask about.

Supposedly they're on their way to meet Gwen in Rome, where she's been working for these past six months. Honestly though, Elyan just wants out of Liverpool, no excuse needed. He doesn't know why Gwaine's running, and he doesn't care to ask - just lets that be question number three that never sees the light of day.

They've taken their sweet time, meandering around, but today they've finally reached the Alps, wandering on Elyan's decent French and Gwaine's rude, mostly sexual words for everyday items. 

Gwaine's singing has become more of a murmur than anything else. The highway wraps around the mountainside like a ribbon, winding up and up and up into the blue sky. It's amazing and something Elyan wonders if he'll ever be in the mood to appreciate properly. But then Gwaine pipes up.

"'M still drunk," he mutters. "Can we stop?"

Elyan should feel annoyed, but all he does is smile.

***

The little hotel is tucked right into the mountainside. Elyan thinks Sherlock Holmes or yodeling, but what he should have thought was "food", because they have about a million different ways of serving dairy and all of them are delicious. Gwaine eats what looks like three or four kilos and wanders upstairs to pass out on the bed. Elyan goes for a walk.

The mountains are bright with summer and freedom and everything Elyan didn't have at home, the air crisp and open. There's still a bit of snow tucked into the pockets of shadow where the sun doesn't shine. Elyan tucks his cold hands in his pockets and doesn't think, _when we get through these mountains_ , because that way lies endings, separations, but also Gwen. He isn't sure what he thinks about that yet.

The thought pulls him back to the hotel, back up to the small, neat room with Gwaine still snoring on the bed. Elyan watches him sleep for a while, then goes down the hall to take a shower.

When he gets back, he doesn't notice at first that Gwaine is watching him from barely opened eyes, but he also doesn't jump when Gwaine slurs, "Not drunk anymore."

It's an invitation. Elyan takes it.

They're soon tangled on the only bed, Elyan relearning the feel of Gwaine's pierced cock, the tattoos on his body. For his part, Gwaine still looks rather shocked that Elyan even wants to touch him, but he arches into it, uncomplicated and joyful at every brush of Elyan's fingers. For his part, Elyan just keeps touching, fascinated by the scars on Gwaine's body but, as always, not asking.

They have time for fingers and tongues, for kissing and for Gwaine to stiffen suddenly in Elyan's arms, eyes rolling back. Later, they'll have time to clean each other up lazily, to go for another walk.

They have time for many things, except questions.

* * *

**19**

Fusion: What Not to Wear

Arthur’s jaw drops when she steps from the shadowed doorway onto the set. Morgana thwacks him in the chest with the back of her hand, her other hand over her heart. “Shut the front door! Who the hell do you think you are?” she demands.

Elena focuses on walking, heel-to-toe, one foot in front of the other. There’s something to this fancy-pants clothing business. She’s about three times more careful not to trip in her stilettos than she’d be in her boots, and is therefore about three times more graceful than the girl they’d first ambushed in the practice ring. In her defense, Elena didn’t always fall into manure when she flubbed a jump and fell off her horse. The camera crew had been a little distracting.

They tug her between them when she makes it within reach, which is nice. Even in her own towering heels, Morgana is a steadying influence. Arthur’s hand is large and sure around her shoulder. Behind the primary camera, the key grip’s blue eyes crinkle. He zooms in, lens blinking at her. A gentle squeeze to her waist brings her back to the present — to the giant picture mirror they’re facing: Arthur on her right in a charcoal suit-jacket with a forest-green pinstripe, Morgana at her left in a fitted sheath the same royal purple as Arthur’s pocket square. Between them, Elena looks like butter in a champagne and gold bandage dress.

“I am honestly speechless,” Arthur says, shaking his head.

“First and last time, I’m sure,” Morgana says, earning herself an eyeroll. “Seriously, Elena, this is stunning. Who would’ve thought the girl with the horse crap in her hair was secretly a princess? Look at this _fit_ ,” she says, sliding her fingers around Elena’s ribcage just beneath her breasts.

“Give us a twirl,” Arthur says, taking her hand and turning her in a graceful circle.

“Look at that tush!” Morgana gleefully frames the visual with her hands mid-spin. “How are you feeling, what are your thoughts?”

Elena tilts her head, considering herself. She’s shorter than Arthur and Morgana, but there really _is_ something to the clothes. It’s like her proportions have shifted, and her self-perception with them. Not in any sort of permanent sense; it feels like she’s stepped into a role for a short while — a princess beside a king and queen. “I feel like a million bucks,” Elena says.

~+++~

“The crew will follow you back home to film your welcome party and personal spots, then everything goes to editing and joins the queue for distribution.”

“Sounds good,” Elena says, accepting the key grip’s clipboard (he appears to be key everything, judging by his innumerable responsibilities).

“Sign here and here,” he says, and she scribbles where he points. He twinkles at her, satisfied, then nods at the doors to the studio. “The bosses want to say goodbye before you go.”

“Oh, thanks,” Elena says, watching him lope off.

Morgana and Arthur are bickering pleasantly on the interview couch and don’t immediately notice her, so she straightens her dress and puts her shoulders back and walks, heel-toe, heel-toe, feet rapping out that tell-tale feminine signature of approach. Morgana smiles around the lip of her wineglass and Arthur’s eyes flick up and sharpen on her, and Elena knows what she wants.

Arthur stands to greet her, which makes it easy for Elena to grab him by the tie and reel him in for a kiss. He freezes, and Morgana’s too poised to do more than gape until Elena sets aside her wine and climbs into her lap.

It takes remarkably little persuasion to get from there to Arthur’s strong hands gripping her ass, the flies of his impeccable slacks biting into her skin as he thrusts, pushing her mouth tighter and messier against Morgana’s cunt.

“Come on, good girl, I’m so close,” Morgana says, plaintive, fingers tangling in blonde hair. Elena’s new, three hundred dollar dress is bunched up around her hips and her face is slick, Gwen’s beautifully applied makeup no doubt smudged and unseemly, and Elena has never felt so sexy. She moans, sucking at Morgana’s clit, relishing the sharp, quavering cry she wins for it.

When she comes, it’s with Arthur’s dick inside her and Morgana’s mouth on her — a rumpled, gorgeous mess.

* * *

**20**  
Fusion: Stargate SG-1

Arthur sat on the edge of the infirmary bed with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth.

"Ith thith really nethethary?" he mumbled.

"Standard operating procedure, I'm afraid," the man said. He was tall with a shock of dark hair, and his blue eyes held humor in them. "Maybe next time you'll think twice about touching random alien artifacts."

Arthur humphed, then pursed his lips when the doctor snatched it away, absently checking the reading before making a notation. "It's not my fault the squints weren't doing their jobs."

"Hmm," the doctor hummed soothingly, and then he caught Arthur's eye and made a twirling motion with his finger. 

"Assume the position Colonel."

His eyes went wide and he hesitated before doing as he was told. "Is this....really necessary?"

"Your SGC file states that it's been over a year since you had a prostate exam. I might as well be thorough."

Arthur sighed and slipped off the bed to brace himself against it. He spread his legs and leaned forward, waiting for the doctor to get on with it. He wasn't prepared for the man to suddenly lean flush against his back, or for his voice to sound hot in Arthur's ear.

"Call me Merlin," the doctor rasped unprofessionally.

And then there were hands on him, strange because of the gloves. They spread his ass open, and before Arthur could react, a lubed finger slid unerringly inside him.

He gasped at the contact, and then forced his body to relax. He'd done this before. It wasn't a big deal...

Merlin's finger found his prostate and a full body shiver wracked Arthur's body. He felt his cock begin to grow between his thighs. His balls tightened up in anticipation of pleasure.

"You feel good inside," the doctor- _Merlin_ \- the doctor, said. He moved his finger in a slow circular motion, and then quickly slid it out of Arthur's slackened ass- gone loose to accommodate the examination.

Before Arthur could stand, however, the finger returned with more lube. It teased just on the inside of him, crooking to test the tightness of the muscle, before sliding in deeper to press flutter-quick at his prostate again.

"Wha," He tried to turn around, to see, but Merlin held him down with a firm hand between his shoulder blades. "What are you _doing_?"

" _Thorough_ ," Merlin reminded him in a voice gone from raspy to downright husky, and just to make his point he brought another finger in to tease at Arthur's hole.

It felt strange, and shudder-good, and too much and Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to buck into it, or try to wrestle himself away.

A tap against his prostate decided him.

"Fuck!" he hissed, and his entire body spasmed as the second finger finally slid inside of him, working with the first to open him up, make him wet.

"You like this don't you?" Merlin laughed.

Arthur could only offer a hissed "Hnng," in reply, and then another, "Fuck!"

Merlin was assaulting his prostate relentlessly now. His fingers pressed and pet, jabbed and then fluttered, matching the quiver Arthur felt deep in his gut, until it was suddenly too much.

His orgasm was bright hot, and he was dimly aware of his come shooting in stringy ropes over the crisp sheets.

He slumped, boneless, and when he felt the head of a cock nudge against him, he didn't protest. It filled him up, gave his rippling muscles something to grip so that his orgasm seemed to continue even after his come had stopped spurting out.

The angle was odd, but good as Merlin took up a steady rhythm behind him. He wasn't loud, he couldn't afford to be, with them still in the infirmary, but Arthur could just make out the steady huffs of his pleasure.

And then Merlin seized up and warmth flooded into Arthur's body.

+-+-+

"We should get cleaned up," Arthur said as he kissed Merlin fondly. "Don't want to get caught."

"Mmm," Merlin mumbled, and then he lifted his head from between Arthur's shoulder blades. "Thank you Arthur. I know you could get court marshaled for this."

Arthur shrugged. It had been worth it. "But next time, we get to do _my_ fantasy. I'm thinking..." He chewed the inside of his cheek, "you. Servant for a day. Hmm... has potential."

He laughed when Merlin slapped him playfully on the ass.

* * *

**21**  
Fusion: Temeraire

The waves lapped gently against the _Camelot_ ’s hull, the rocking motion as soothing and familiar to Arthur as any lullaby. Arthur felt a trickle of sweat run down his temple as the largest dragon he had ever seen landed on the deck. 

Aithusa nudged Arthur’s hand with his snout. “Is that how big I’ll be when I’m grown?” 

Arthur couldn’t imagine the dragon he had watched hatch from an egg—and who could once fit in his lap—ever growing to that monstrous size. “I don’t know,” he said, scratching Aithusa’s favourite spot behind his ear affectionately.

Arthur waited until the dragon’s captain dismounted before stepping closer to greet him. For such an impressive dragon, his captain didn’t look like much: he perhaps a year or two younger than himself, had dark hair, startlingly blue eyes, and rather large ears. 

“I’m Captain Merlin Emrys on Kilgharrah,” the captain said, smiling brightly and holding out his hand for Arthur to shake. 

Arthur took Merlin’s hand in his own. His grip was firmer than Arthur expected. “Captain Arthur Penn of the _Camelot_ ,” he said formally.

Merlin’s smile faltered slightly as he glanced at Aithusa.

A great rumble shook the ship, and it took Arthur a moment to recognise it as Merlin’s dragon—Kilgharrah—speaking. “Perhaps you would do us the honour of introducing us to your dragon,” he said pointedly. 

Arthur cursed himself inwardly for his inadvertent rudeness. “My apologies,” he said. “This is Aithusa.” Arthur saw Merlin and Kilgharrah exchange glances.

“An interesting name,” Kilgharrah said, sounding intrigued. 

“Arthur gave it to me,” Aithusa said, nuzzling Arthur’s hand. “You’re not going to take him away from me, are you?”

“That’s what we’re here to decide,” Merlin said carefully, with an apologetic glance at them.

“I won’t let that happen,” Aithusa said resolutely. 

Arthur felt an odd sensation rise in his chest as Merlin looked at him, his gaze clear and direct. 

“I am hungry again,” Aithusa added urgently.

Arthur saw Merlin unsuccessfully hide a smile behind his hand. Lifting his chin, Arthur summoned the ship’s cooks for Aithusa’s next meal.

*

It wasn’t until Aithusa was fed, cleaned, and asleep at Arthur’s feet that Kilgharrah began his reasoning. “A young dragon like Aithusa would do best with an experienced captain. Surely you must understand that.”

Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder—a shocking impropriety, but one that Arthur allowed, considering the circumstances. “We’ll take good care of him. If you joined the Corps, you’ll be giving up any chance of having a family, of calling your life your own: a dragon is a captain’s first and only priority. You must think of what is best for Aithusa.”

Arthur looked down at his hands, clenched into fists. He thought of his father’s hatred for the dragons that killed his mother, and what it would mean if Arthur were to become the captain of one. He thought of never commanding the _Camelot_ again, and of leaving her crew behind. 

And he thought of the dragon curled at his feet, fast asleep. At his hatching, he had walked straight toward Arthur and startled them all by inviting Arthur to give him a name, a name that fell from Arthur’s lips without a thought, one that he knew was right.

The words were thick in Arthur’s throat. “He is my dragon, and I am his captain.”

Kilgharrah’s chuckle made the masts rumble. “Perhaps destiny has a way of working itself out after all.”

*

Arthur dismounted, laughing uncontrollably as Aithusa nudged him worriedly, much stronger since his rapid growth in the months following their arrival at the Corps’ training grounds. “I’m fine,” Arthur said, patting Aithusa’s muzzle. “You flew well today.”

“We’ll have you flying in our formation yet,” Merlin said, grinning from Kilgharrah’s back.

Later, Arthur pushed Merlin up against the wall of his room, still exhilarated from the sheer joy of flying with him in perfect unison. He pressed Merlin’s smiling mouth against his own, tasting the sky and the wind on his lips, and drew him down to the bed.

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Arthur said, wrapping his hand around Merlin’s hard length and rutting up against Merlin’s thigh. Merlin moaned underneath him, writhing as he pushed his cock upward in Arthur’s grip. Arthur shuddered, rocking back against Merlin’s thigh, too desperate for anything requiring more coordination. 

“I knew it,” Merlin said breathlessly, biting down on Arthur’s shoulder. “I knew you were the right one for Aithusa. And for me.”

Arthur stifled his cry as he came all over Merlin’s thighs. He stroked Merlin until he came with a gasp, and watched as Merlin fell apart beneath his hand. 

It almost felt like flying.

* * *

**22**  
Crossover: Doctor Who

”Here we are then,” said the Doctor, stepping out of the TARDIS.

”Where is here?” Rose asked. ”And what _is_ that smell?”

They walked around a corner and found themselves on a marketplace full of animals, people shouting, and a distant sound of swords clashing together.

”Ah, old times. Welcome to Camelot, Rose. Jack.”

”Camelot? Seriously? You mean to say we’re here to meet King Arthur and the knights of the round table?” Rose asked excitedly.

”Well, some of the legends might be true. I say we find out! Coming, Jack?”

”Not quite yet,” Jack said and eyed a young dark-haired man with high cheekbones. ”I’ll catch you two later.”

The Doctor gave him a look, and Rose giggled, when she followed him.

“Hello there,” Jack said, walking next to the young man. “What do they call you then?”

The man stopped and looked at Jack up and down.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Obviously.”

“Oh, sorry. I’d love to talk, but Prince Arthur is waiting for me. I’m already late.”

Prince _Arthur_? In _Camelot_?

“You didn’t tell me your name!” Jack shouted after the man who had broken into run.

“I’m Merlin,” he called back and was on his way.

It took Jack a moment to register what the man had said. He glanced around, didn’t see a sign of the Doctor or Rose, so he followed. There seemed to be something blocking his view when he arrived on a field where several pieces of armour and a sword were lying. The block was nothing too strong, some kind of power field, but if he could just...

Aha! One of the Torchwood devices in his pocket did the job and made a small, square window, letting him see on the other side of the force field. 

What he found wasn’t exactly what he had been expecting, which was not to say it wasn’t a pleasant surprise. A _very_ pleasant surprise.

“...I could make it up to you, sire.”

“And how are you planning to do that, _Merlin_? Polish all my swords?”

Merlin whispered something in the blond man’s ear. Jack assumed this was Prince Arthur. The prince blushed and growled.

“Such a tease, Merlin.”

And then the prince pulled him into a kiss.

Well, there were definitely worse ways to pass time in a medieval village than watching two attractive men making out, Jack thought. 

Or taking pictures of them.

 _Very_ interesting pictures, Jack realised a second later, when Merlin smiled at Arthur and dropped to his knees.

“Someone might come here and see, Merlin.”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Now shut up and enjoy this, sire.”

The sight of Merlin swallowing around Arthur’s cock made Jack swallow too. He saw a flash of tongue for a second and then it was gone, but the way their bodies worked in synch told Jack that it was not the first time the prince and his servant were doing this. Arthur was looking at Merlin like he was a wondrous thing, and Jack couldn’t blame him, because the young magician had caught his eye too on the marketplace.

Something about the way Arthur caressed Merlin’s hair and neck and whispered things Jack couldn’t hear also told him that the prince wouldn’t probably be too keen on any ideas of sharing Merlin.

Arthur bit his hand when he came. Merlin kept on swallowing until his breathing steadied, and after that Arthur helped Merlin up. Merlin adjusted his trousers and was moving away when Arthur caught his hand.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“I have chores to do, sire.”

“But you haven’t...”

Merlin looked at Arthur under his eyelashes.

“Come here.”

“But...”

“It was an order,” Arthur said, pulled Merlin into another kiss and pushed a hand inside his trousers.

“Hey, Jack. Where have you been?”

Jack instantly turned off the device and looked in the direction of Rose’s voice.

“Just looking around.”

“Anything interesting?”

“Learning bits and pieces of history. Took some photos,” Jack said, not specifying what kind of history he had been studying.

“The Doctor thinks we should go. We met the King who blamed the Doctor for sorcery, and he said I should find you, and we should go now.”

Back inside the TARDIS Rose lamented that he had not actually seen King Arthur, because apparently they had ended up in a wrong year.

Jack went through his pictures, some of which were pretty amazing, and somehow failed to correct the assumption.


	5. Group B (without warnings)

**23**

Crossover: Terry Pratchett's Discworld

The ewe let go a loud, flatulent ‘parp’. Merlin gagged. 

“Remind me again why we’re lying in this sodden field in the dead of night, staring up the arse end of a sheep?” 

A dark hummock nearby sighed. “Quit whining Merlin. The plan is to catch the livestock thieves plaguing this district.”

“But why us? You’re King. You have bailiffs and barons for this work. You don’t personally investigate every petty crime in Camelot.”

“The village headman claimed the animals were flying out of the fields. It’s clearly sorcery!”

“Sounds like someone’s been into the scumble,” muttered another shadowy hump.

“Shut up, Gwaine.”

“I didn’t say a word!” the hummock protested.

The night air muttered.

“Merlin, I can hear you!”

“Can not!”

“What the hell does ‘crivens’ mean anyway?”

Merlin’s protest was cut off by a loud cry.

“Ready lads? Yin, tan, tethra! Hup hup hyup!”

A sheep at the edge of the flock rose eight inches and glided at speed for the paddock gate. Backwards.

“Knights, to arms!”

Sheep scattered as cloaked figures sprang to arms. Swords flashed, but no enemy could be seen. The levitating sheep settled as fast as it had risen.

“Who goes there!?”

A voice drifted up from the grass at Arthur’s feet “Ye’hear, lads? Ta bigjobs want tae see oos!”

Before Arthur rose a strange form - a very large pyramid made up of very small blue men. The wee figure at the apex shouted, “Ach, ye skivvens, sommun hol’ me cote, wiles I tak tae ‘is feece! Can yer mother sew, ye daftie? Tell her tae stitch this!” It launched itself at the King’s face with a howl, hitting Arthur’s nose with a resounding crack and sending him over like a felled tree. 

The field erupted in chaos.

“Get it off! Get it off!”

“Let go my hair! Ow!”

“It’s in my pants! Get it out.. argghhh!”

Merlin darted behind a fence and began to chant, his eyes flashing gold. He nearly choked on the incantation when the shrub behind him whispered in his ear.

“T’will get you nowhere. They lads be immune to magic.”

Like that picture of the old woman who becomes a young maid if you stare at it long enough, the bush shifted and became a lovely young woman in a tall, pointed hat. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful. Brown hair hung long in a simple braid and she wore a plain green dress above a pair of sturdy, sensible boots. She had a presence about her, as if she bent the universe around her like a lead ball on a rubber sheet.

With scarcely a glance at Merlin she stepped forward and took in the battle. “I suppose I’d best put a stop to’it. THAT’LL BE ENOUGH O’ THAT YE SCUNNERS!”

~~~

At the tavern, Arthur nursed his bloodied nose and peered at the tiny man perched on the table before him. He was blue-skinned with wild red-hair and wore nothing but a ragged kilt and rabbit-skull helmet.

“So... you’re Nac Mac Feegle, and you’re pixies?”

“Pictsies!”

“Right. You’re Rob Anybody, their chief?”

“Big mun o’ t’clan, aye.” 

“And the sheep?”

“Wi’d snaffle t’a coobeastie, aye?”

Merlin and the strange girl exchanged an amused glance, leaving the king and the small chieftain deep in conversation. They paused to watch Gwaine losing a drinking competition with several scruffy Feegles. Leon was out cold, and Elyan was surreptitiously trying to make for the stairs, one hand gripping his trousers and a Feegle on each shoulder. Percival was arm wrestling a generously proportioned Feegle named Big Yan, who was promising to “climb him like a mountain”, while No'-As-Big-As-Medium-Sized-Jock-But-Bigger-than-Wee-Jock Jock played bawdy tavern songs on the mouse-pipes in the corner.

The girl sighed. “A good fight followed by a good drink and they’re happy.” 

“Sounds familiar.”

“They’ll not bother your kingdom any more. I’ll see to it.”

Merlin cut her off with an abrupt cough and look of warning. “I know what you are, but don’t announce it,” he hissed. “Magic users are not... appreciated here.”

The girl cocked her head, her eyes flicking from the King back to Merlin.

“He doesn’t know, then?”

Merlin’s pained expression was answer enough.

Tiffany took his hand. “Your time will come.”

Glancing back, she appeared to address an overhanging tree branch. “This is private. Follow us and face the wrath o’ yer hag, ye ken?”

“Crivens!” said a tiny voice from aloft.

Tiffany tugged Merlin’s hand. “Come on, then. Tonight, at least, you’re not alone.”

* * *

**24**

**Fusion: Batman**

The boy is an orphan. He reminds Arthur of himself, the sad lines of his face caving in against the misery of losing his parents, of being helpless to turn back time and do something different-- _anything_ \--to save them.

Arthur presses one broad hand to the boy’s tiny shoulder. It could snap under the weight, and so he is careful. Merlin looks up at him with a dull, directionless gaze. A child no more, drowning in grief. Arthur wants to pull him out of it. He has the means to take him in, at least. Merlin will be his ward. He will live at Pendragon Manor, will have every luxury and protection. Arthur will find the sonofabitch who ordered the hit. He will track him down. Justice will be served.

**

The boy sits at the console when Arthur drives through the waterfall, into the Cave. Alarms have been going off since Merlin snuck in twenty minutes ago. Too curious, touching everything. He steps out of the Batmobile, frowns at the deep pain and frustration etched onto Merlin’s young face.

“Why didn’t you save my parents? You were there that night. You could have stopped it. You’re _Batman_.”

The cowl conceals his expression. It offers protection from physical injury, but it also distorts reality in Arthur’s favour, in all the ways that truly matter. “We’ll discuss this later.”

“We’ll discuss it now.” They stare at one another, neither backing down. “I must be here for a reason. I watched you tonight. You could use my help. I think I was meant to be by your side.”

**

The darkness of Gotham-- _his city_ \--is his salvation.

That he would do anything to protect it is an understatement. There is no other reason that the boy at his side is to become his partner tonight.

Arthur Pendragon, billionaire playboy and CEO of Pendragon Enterprises, doesn’t like the idea. He thinks Batman must act alone. He thinks the boy is too young, that his pain is too fresh, that his inexperience will show despite his skill and the intense training Arthur put him through these past months. Arthur thinks it’s going to get him in trouble; the second he cares more about Merlin’s welfare than Gotham’s is the moment he descends down the slippery slope towards vengeance.

Batman, though, the part of him that lives and breathes and tastes the city, knows that becoming Robin is Merlin’s fate, his destiny.

Together, they crouch on the roof of the GCPD building, the men on the streets like black ants scattering through the cracks of the sidewalk below. Merlin is antsy at his side. Arthur lays one large hand over his skinny shoulder. Still too small.

“You’re ready?” Arthur won’t ask twice.

Merlin’s boyish enthusiasm is almost contagious. He nods.

**

After a particularly rough night, Arthur tends to Merlin’s wounds at the Cave. Scrapes and bruises mostly. The boy is a wonder sometimes, his nimble acrobatics something like magic to behold and just as awing.

“I’m fine. _Arthur_.” His voice is rough-raw, pitched, as he holds Arthur’s hands in his own. “It takes more than a little fall to get rid of me.”

“That wasn’t a little fall.”

“I’m here.” Merlin’s thin, pale hands pry the cowl down, peel off the mystery one layer at a time, and all the boundaries that separate them emotionally, physically come down with it. “I’m right here.”

Arthur isn’t sure who leans in first. The meeting of their mouths is mutual, urgent. And once his lips have tasted Merlin, he cannot stop himself from feeding. Greedy, a man possessed, hands everywhere at once and restless, snapping the clasps at Robin’s cape, tugging his tunic off with hasty, impatient yanks. He tastes Merlin’s tongue, the sweat on his chin, the salt on the skin at the flat of his hip.

For a man who kneels for no one, Arthur kneels for Merlin.

He takes his time with Merlin’s cock, holds it on his tongue until the boy is panting, thrusting, coming completely undone. Arthur slicks his fingers with whatever is handy, pries Merlin open, so rough that he is afraid he is hurt when he moans.

“Don’t stop. Arthur, please...”

He thrusts in, bending the boy’s supple, lean body over the medical bay, bottoming out inside him with half his suit still in the way. There are more intimate places to do this, but that will come later. Right now, Arthur needs Merlin like men need oxygen to breathe.

* * *

**25**

Fusion: 10 Things I Hate About You

Arthur entered Uther’s study quietly, standing before the impressive mahogany desk that filled the space with opulence and seemed designed to breed an inferiority complex in all those who saw it.

“Yes?” Uther asked distractedly as he worked on the mountain of paperwork beside him.

“Well, Father, I was just wondering –“

“He wants to go to Lance’s party on Friday so he get drunk and rub up against some guy named Valiant,” Morgana called out through the doorway as she walked past, stopping to smirk at Arthur in petty sibling victory before disappearing down the hallway. Probably to go practice her witches cackle Arthur thought uncharitably.

“No parties, no dating, no dancing,” Uther said not looking up from his paperwork, “You know the rules. As the Mayor’s children you’re held at a higher standard of behaviour, the last thing I need is for some teenage pregnancy drama –“

“That’s really not an issue with me,” Arthur interrupted in disbelief.

Uther glanced up as if taking stock of which of his children was actually before him for the first time. “Fine,” he said stonily, the kernel of a plan taking root in his mind, “I’ll allow you to date.” Arthur’s victory was short lived. “But only when your sister does.”

“But she’s a witch! No one in their right mind would date her!”

“Then I’m liking this plan better and better.”

“Oh god, I’m going to die a lonely virgin.”

“Don’t be silly son,” Uther said absentmindedly his attention refocused to the work before him, “You certainly won’t be lonely. Just think of all the cats you can adopt.”

**

“I don’t know why you want to go out with Valiant anyway,” Merlin complained, “He’s a self-absorbed wanker.”

“Well _Mer_ lin,” Arthur drawled, “He’s the only one who’s asked me.” Arthur wiggled his eyebrows in Merlins direction, obviously trying to communicate with him in a form of silent language unknown to the rest of the world.

“I get it,” Merlin said, “You’re a turnip head and he’s a wanker. It’s a match made in heaven!”

Arthur released a frustrated sigh. “You’re not helping Merlin,” he complained, “Who would date a shrew like Morgana?”

“Well… there’s always Gwaine. I’m sure he’s up for the challenge.”

**

“Hello gorgeous, are you Morgana?” 

“Go away before I hurt you.”

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

**

Merlin gasped as someone grabbed his hand and tugged him into a disused classroom, heart pounding in shock as he fell against his assailants’ solid chest. He looked up with trepidation before realising it was only Gwaine, body slumping in relief. 

Arthur appeared in the doorway seconds later, the concerned frown on face transforming into a glare as he pulled Merlin sharply to his side and away from Gwaine’s strong arms and wandering fingers.

“What intel have you boys got for me?” Gwaine asked in amusement, Arthur possessive stance a warning of its own.

“Have you heard of the Skunk Club?” Arthur questioned with a vicious smile. 

**

“So are you stalking me now?” 

“No princess,” Gwaine grinned charmingly, “I’m just here for a quiet drink”

“You do know this is a lesbian bar, don’t you?” Morgana asked, raising an eyebrow sceptically.

“Where else can a man of my stunning good looks go to relax without being hit on?”

**

“This isn’t working Merlin!”

“Give it time Arthur, Gwaine can be quite charming when he-- stop glaring at me like that!”

**

“If I serenade you will you date me?”

“That depends,” Morgana states, amusement dripping from every word, “How good is your singing?”

**

The last thing Merlin had expected was for Arthur to show up on his door step on Prom night, looking like an Adonis, with spare tux in hand.

“Shouldn’t you be with Valiant?” he stammered confusedly as Arthur shoved him through his bathroom door and began stripping him, fingers running deftly over buttons as he pulled the tux into place.

Arthur smirked triumphantly, wrapping an arm around Merlins waist as he studied their reflection in the bathroom mirror, Merlin half-dressed and confused with Arthur an image of contented strength behind him. “Really Merlin, haven’t you figured it out yet? Why in the world would I want Valiant when I could have you?”

**

“I’m only doing this for Arthur,” Morgana stated between kisses, dress hiked up to her waist as she writhed on Gwaine’s lap in the back seat of his car. His hands cupping her breasts, as she pressed down against his erection.

“Whatever you say Princess.”

* * *

**26**

 

 **Fusion:** Power Rangers

 

The six rangers stared down at their new suits in awe, both startled and pleased at the feel of the material against their skin. Arthur, of course, was the red ranger, Lancelot the blue, Gwen the yellow ranger, Morgana the green, Gwaine the black and finally, Merlin the-

‘ _Pink?_ ’ Merlin all but shrieked. ‘How the _fuck_ am I the sodding _pink_ ranger?’

Arthur, finally pulling away from admiring his form in the close-fitting suit, turned to look over at Merlin. He smirked at the sight before him.

‘Take a wild guess,’ he murmured, barely suppressing a snort at the dirty look he received.

‘But it’s _pink_!’ Merlin wailed, looking around for support. ‘How am I supposed to save the world wearing _this_ thing? I look like a bloody _girl_!’

‘I think you look nice in it, Merlin,’ Lancelot said, sounding completely earnest and genuine as he said it, the git.

‘Don’t worry,’ Gwaine leered, all but strutting over in his shiny black suit. ‘If you need a hand taking it off, I won’t mind volunteeri-’ a sudden jab to the stomach from Arthur’s elbow stopped Gwaine before he could go any further. 

‘It is your destiny to wear that colour, young ranger,’ Kilgharrah intoned, from where he was trapped within the shields, his great voice booming through the room. ‘It will lead you to your fate. It is the tool with which you will achieve greatness.’

Merlin looked exceedingly unimpressed.

‘Lord Kilgharrah is right,’ chirruped Aithusa, Kilgharrah’s aide and helper. ‘By wearing the suit, you will finally receive all that was meant for you.’

Merlin still looked doubtful.

‘You will see, young ranger,’ Kilgharrah boomed out wisely, his face pressed up against the shields. ‘You will see …’

 

…

 

‘You know,’ Merlin panted out, clutching wildly at Arthur’s shoulder as he eased himself inside Merlin’s body. ‘When Aithusa said that I would get what was coming to me, I didn’t realise it meant your _cock_!’

Arthur’s face slid up in a grin before he sighed, having finally settled fully inside of Merlin.

‘Fuck,’ he grunted, pulling out of Merlin before pushing his way back in, causing them both to groan. ‘God Merlin, you look so fucking hot in that pink suit, you have no idea.’

‘Oh yeah?’ Merlin rasped out, his eyes shut as he moved his hips to the rhythm that Arthur was pounding into him. ‘You liked it?’

‘Fuck yeah,’ Arthur moaned, gripping Merlin tightly. ‘Couldn’t keep my eyes off you. All that tight pinkness around your cock, your _arse_ -’ he gave a rough thrust into Merlin as if the emphasise the last point – ‘wanted to just shove you against the wall and mmmpph.’ He moaned as Merlin suddenly swooped down and took Arthur’s lips in a rough kiss.

Merlin was just about to do something very clever with his tongue when he was interrupted by a beeping sound from his wrist, indicated an incoming transmission.

‘Er, guys?’ came Gwaine’s voice when Merlin pressed the button on his communicator. ‘Not that I’m not all for grabbing a bit of nookie whenever possible, but-’

‘Get your arses down here _right_ now you bloody _morons_!’ Gwen’s voice suddenly snarled down the communicator, causing both Arthur and Merlin to wince. Gwen losing her temper was a very rare occurrence, after all.

‘ _Really_ guys,’ Morgana drawled, her voice sounding out crisply from the communicator. ‘Believe me, it’s a relief to all of us that you finally got your act together but _really_? Did it _have_ to be right in the middle of fighting the Questing Beast that Mordred Monstrosso sent?’

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a guilty look.

‘Sorry,’ Arthur muttered.

‘We’ll be right out,’ Merlin added, sighing. Turning off his communicator, he looked back at Arthur.

 

‘Well,’ Arthur said after a pause. ‘I suppose we should go then.’

‘Yeah,’ Merlin agreed but neither of them moved. Then Merlin’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips and, in reflex, Arthur’s dick, still deep inside Merlin’s arse, gave a twitch.

‘But you know, we’re already here …’ Arthur said hurriedly.

‘And it’s not as if we’d need long,’ Merlin added eagerly.

They both stole a glance at their communicators.

‘Fuck it,’ Arthur said, before pulling Merlin’s head towards him and kissing him long and hard. Then his hips started jerking and the cave was once again filled with the sound of moaning and sighing.

Back at the Power Ranger headquarters, Kilgharrah and Aithusa shared a knowing smirk. 

The pink suit had fulfilled its purpose.

* * *

**27**

Fusion: [Dragon Age II](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Dragon_Age_II)

Darktown isn't Gwaine's favorite place in the city--that's reserved for the Hanged Man inn--but he does prefer it to the hoity-toity Hightown and its nobles who frown whenever he even steps in their vicinity. Like they can tell he doesn't belong up there. Fuck them. He'd still be living there if it weren't for the damned Chantry and damned Knight-Commander Meredith insisting his father had sided with blood mages.

No, Darktown is much more to his liking. The people are _real_ here. The only backstabbing in Darktown is the literal stabbing in the back, versus Hightown's deceit and lies.

It's also a good place to have illicit trysts with known apostates.

"Templars are looking for you again," Gwaine says right before he leans in to kiss Merlin. It's good to have Merlin in his arms. Merlin melts into his embrace, meets his kiss with full force.

It's been too long.

His hands are undoing Merlin's robes when Merlin says something. Gwaine stops and stares until Merlin repeats it, and he can almost see how the mood evaporates.

"What about Arthur?"

Yes, what about Arthur. Gwaine rolls his eyes. "Arthur, shining example of Templar that he is, is leading the search for you."

"But he's keeping them off my trail, right?" Merlin's eyes are so damned hopeful as he asks; Gwaine doesn't have the heart to lie to make Arthur look bad.

"Yeah, he came by the Hanged Man to warn me. Said you need to get out of town. Hawke might be a much bigger fish in Meredith's eyes, but the other Templars are looking for any type of victory to get into her good graces. Everybody's out for blood, Merlin. It's not safe for you here."

It's a subject he's brought up more than once. He does what he can to keep Merlin from discovery, but he's not exactly popular in town either. There's only so far charm alone can get him--after that, the only thing that works is gold, and that's not something a rogue like him has an abundance of.

Merlin bites his lower lip and averts his gaze. "If I leave, what will happen to you? What'll happen to Arthur?"

For some reason, Merlin's got it in his head that Arthur and Gwaine need protecting from some invisible big bad. Yeah, Merlin's powerful, but there's not much he can do that Arthur--and his father's money--can't.

Finally Gwaine shakes his head. "Whatever. I still think you should split, but for now, let's enjoy this."

Merlin nods, and just like that, he seems to have his enthusiasm back. He undoes Gwaine's belt buckle and slides his hand in, palming Gwaine's cock and coaxing it into an erection. 

Gwaine has to push Merlin's robes up to return the favor, but the rumor about mages not wearing anything underneath isn't a complete lie: Merlin likes to go au naturel, which is still as hot now as when he discovered that tidbit all those months ago. 

Merlin pushes a thigh between Gwaine's legs and thrusts against him. "Gwaine," he whispers, his breath caressing the shell of Gwaine's ear and making Gwaine shiver. Yeah. Forget Arthur. This is way better. 

Somehow Gwaine ends up against the wall, Merlin grinding against him, and it doesn't matter that it's just a dank corner in Darktown with a small pallet in the corner--this is better than some fancy inn, because Merlin is moaning his name and his hands are roaming under Gwaine's shirt and for the next few moments, the world is reduced to just him and Merlin. 

Gwaine cups Merlin's ass and urges him to move faster, loving the friction of the robe against his thigh. It gets even better when Merlin pulls him into another kiss; their tongues twist around each other and Gwaine feels like Merlin is touching his very core.

When Merlin pulls away, Gwaine has to gasp for breath. Merlin pauses only briefly though, before moving on to suck at Gwaine's neck. That's going to leave a mark. That's going to leave a mark where _everybody can see_.

It's embarrassing that _that_ sends him over the edge, but Gwaine can't stop himself; Merlin is all around him, and it's a type of permanence he knows he'll never truly have.

Merlin continues thrusting against him, and Gwaine reaches between them to help him out. It's only once they're both satisfied and wrung out that Merlin said, "I'll leave in the morning. Send Arthur my regards?"

Gwaine grits his teeth and nods.

* * *

**28**

**Fusion (I think? idek) - with Fifty Shades of Grey.**

“You want me to _what_?” I glare at him and wait for a response. My inner goddess is cracking her knuckles and waiting to junk punch him. 

“I want you to be my submissive, Morgana,” Gwaine replies smoothly, tilting his head, his perfect mane of hair gleaming in the subtle lighting of the ridiculously expensive restaurant he’d insisted on. He pushes an envelope towards me across the pristine tablecloth. “Please -- take the time to read the contract and consider my proposal.”

_Holy Fuck!_

I shake my head, is he really serious? My subconscious is rolling her eyes at me and tapping her foot impatiently -- clearly waiting for me to tell him to fuck off. But my inner goddess is resistant. _Look at the pretty_ , she’s saying. _You don’t see totty like that every day, you have to get at least one shag out of him before you turn him down._

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him coolly as I pick up my wine glass and drain it. I push back my chair, leaving my food uneaten. “I’ll be in touch.”

He stands as I leave, manners impeccable as always. “Laters, baby.” I kiss his cheek and smirk.

xOx

I let him stew for a few days before emailing.

**I’ve thought about your proposal and would like to discuss it further. Come to my flat for dinner tonight.  
M x**

xOx

He looks devastating as always, in a white linen shirt and silver-grey tie. He’s wearing those trousers that hang from his hips in that way that makes me want to rip them off with my teeth. 

During dinner I tease him subtly and relentlessly, chewing on my lower lip until it hurts, and flashing my cleavage at him at every possible opportunity. His eyes linger on my nipples through the sheer fabric of my dress and my inner goddess fist pumps and grins like a maniac.

“So, Gwaine darling,” I purr as I slide onto his lap after we’ve eaten. “Gorgeous though you are, being tied up and whipped really isn’t my cup of tea... and my orgasms belong to _me_.” I kiss the pout off his flawless lips and smile sweetly. “But maybe we could try something a little different, just this once?”

xOx

He’s a lot less suave once I’ve got him spread-eagled on my mattress wearing an eye mask and nothing else. His wrists are lashed firmly to my headboard with his silk tie. He lies still as I circle the bed, admiring him from every angle. 

“So how does it feel to be out of control for a change, hmm?” I whisper. His head jerks towards the sound. 

I crawl onto the bed and explore every inch of him with kisses, starting with his feet. Every time he moves, I stop and wait; he catches on pretty quickly. As I nuzzle his thighs, the muscles are taut with tension but he stays still. “Good boy,” I murmur, running just the tip of my nose along his straining erection before I turn my attention to his chest. By the time I work my way back down to his cock it’s sticky-wet. I swallow him down with no warning, making him gasp.

He tastes delicious but I want to feel him inside me. So I pull off and move to straddle him, sliding down onto him in one easy movement. 

“Please...” he gasps, voice husky. “I want to see you.” I pull the mask off and his eyes are dark and desperate. “So beautiful,” he growls, bucking his hips up into me.

I grind down on him, fingering my clit until I come hard, shuddering and quaking with it as he whimpers and tries to fuck up into me. When I’m done I ride him in earnest, dragging his orgasm out of him and have another one of my own while I’m at it.

xOx

I kiss him goodbye on my doorstep, shivering as the chilly night air touches my skin.

“I was thinking...” he suggests tentatively. “Maybe I could change -- for you?”

“No need, sweetie,” I stroke his cheek. “I wouldn’t ask you to. There’s nothing wrong with what you want. I’m just not the girl for you, I don’t have a submissive bone in my body. But my friend Gwen might be more your type. I’ll get her to give you a call.”

* * *

**29**

Fusion: Star Wars

Merlin hung back in the corridor to observe. Arthur was attempting to fuse some shot copper wires to the charger hatch. Merlin bit his lip, suppressing a chuckle; it was obvious the Prince had no idea what he was doing. He looked exhausted, and his frustration in his inability to mend the charger hatch could be seen in the tension along his shoulders. 

He still wore the snowsuit he had on when they escaped Hoth. The rich, white fabric was now smudged with dirt and grease, and an errant smudge had even found its way to Arthur’s jaw. Merlin’s fingers itched to reach out and wipe it away. 

He watched a few more silent seconds until Arthur lit the blowtorch and Merlin’s fear for his beloved Falcon trumped his desire to observe. He stepped up behind Arthur and lifted the torch out of his hands. “What the—“

“Your Princelyness, I’m only trying to help.” Merlin held his hands up, torch safely in his grasp, in mock surrender and gave what he hoped was a winsome grin. 

Arthur groaned and scrubbed his face with his dirty hands. “Will you stop calling me that?”

Merlin’s grin widened. “Sure, Arthur.” 

Arthur raised his face to the heavens and heaved a sigh, drawing Merlin’s eyes to the long column of his neck. A trickle of sweat slid down his skin. Merlin fought the urge to step forward and lick the droplet. 

“You make everything exceedingly difficult.” Arthur’s voice sounded tired, and Merlin felt the tiniest bit guilty. Even exhausted, he still looked haughty and untouchable. 

In the black of space, away from the palaces and politics that separated their two lives, Merlin longed to strip him of his titles and tear down the differences between them. He set the blowtorch down and used the movement to step closer. Arthur’s eyes widened, and he stepped back, pushing himself against the circuit paneling. 

“I do,” Merlin said, unapologetic. “I really, really do. You don’t have to be such a prat, though. Come on, admit it, sometimes you think I’m alright.” 

Arthur snorted, and Merlin counted it a victory, as his eyes softened the tiniest bit. “Occasionally. Maybe. When you aren’t acting like an idiot.”

A shock of laughter burst out of him and was treated to the first smile he had seen on Arthur’s face since the Empire had chased them into the darkest corner of space. “An idiot? I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

Arthur’s smile turned cheeky. “Then stop acting like an idiot, and I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” 

A scrap of copper wire dropped into Arthur’s hair from where he was leaning against the charger hatch. Merlin seized the opportunity and lifted his fingers to run through Arthur’s thick, silky tresses to nudge the wire free. “Stop that, your hands are dirty.”

Merlin ignored him and stepped closer. “Your hands are dirty, too,” he whispered into Arthur’s ear. “What difference does it make?” He rubbed his nose along the hot skin of Arthur’s neck. He smelled like the ice of Hoth and something heady and lovely that made his trousers tight. 

Arthur’s gave a quick intake of breath and move forward just enough for Merlin to feel the hardness of his erection against his thigh. He could feel his pulse racing in Arthur’s neck and his hot, damp breaths against his collarbone. Merlin shifted his head and kissed him. 

Arthur was a tidal wave of motion against his lips. He idly wondered if this was what Luke and the old man were talking about when the spoke of The Force, because Arthur’s lips felt magical. A tongue lapped at the entrance of his mouth, begging entreaty, and Darth Vader couldn’t have stopped him from deepening their kiss. 

Merlin gripped Arthur’s arse and tugged him closer, bringing their groins together with rough friction. The sparks of heat between them made Merlin feel better than he had when he broke the records of the Kessel Run. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, and Arthur’s lips were hard and unrelenting against his. 

In a display that took his breath, Arthur reversed their positions and pushed Merlin against the wall and angled their groins to rub against together with greater precision that left Merlin’s knees weak. Every nudge of Arthur’s hardness against his own pushed his breath faster and brighter. 

Their kiss turned messy and wet. He wanted to devour Arthur, and the fierce determination of Arthur’s lips promised the same. They rubbed against each other and Merlin had never felt anything so wonderful in his life. His orgasm was on the edge of his vision and Arthur’s tense body signaled he was close as well. 

“Sir! Sir, I’ve isolated the reverse flux power cuplink!”

Arthur jerked back, wide eyed, and turned away from Merlin and the intruding droid. Merlin had been _so close_. His body was still trembling. Every fiber of his being wanted 3P0 to explode into a mass of flames. He steeled himself with a shaky breath and turned to face 3P0. “Yes. Thank you. Very much.” 

“Oh! You’re perfectly welcome, sir!” 

Merlin dragged trembling fingers through his hair and turned back to Arthur, only to find him already gone.

* * *

**30**

Crossover: Psych

 

[Psych office, Santa Barbara. Afternoon.]

“Gus! That Arthur Dragonpen really didn’t like the idea of a psychic detective working his father’s case, did he?”

“Arthur Pendragon, Shawn. And no. He did not.”

Shawn twirled around in his desk chair. Chairs that twirled were clearly superior to chairs that did not. “Said it was the last thing his father would have wanted. I thought the last thing his father would’ve wanted was to be found dead on his estranged daughter’s toilet.”

“Exactly.”

“And that guy, the one with the - “ Shawn made cupping motions around his ears. “Wait. Do you think he has super hearing? Why didn’t we ask if he has super hearing?”

“Because we’re grown men, Shawn.”

“Speak for yourself. Anyway, he seemed awfully suspicious.”

“Of you. He was suspicious _of you_. And since you’re lying about being psychic, he has every right to be. The surprising thing is more people don’t look at you like that.”

Shawn waved a dismissive hand, getting to his feet. Wheels were turning. Thoughts were thinking. Plans were becoming one with motion.

And all of that would go better with a Del Taco enchilada, and the evidence in Shawn’s life so far suggested this wasn’t a world where enchiladas could appear out of thin air.

 

[Pendragon estate, Montecito. Evening.]

“No. Don’t even bother trying to explain why we’re sneaking around the man’s house at night wearing dark turtlenecks and black jeans, Shawn. We both know you just wanted to spy on the pretty British people.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. And, pretty? Really, Gus?”

Gus shrugged. “I have eyes.”

“Well, use them to look through that keyhole.”

“Only if you look through the other one.” Pendragon’s library was fancy enough to have not one, but two massive doors. Two disappointingly solid doors, meaning only trickles of conversation made it through.

They were damn intriguing trickles.

“ - never wanted you to have to lie to your father -”

“Merlin -”

“I know it’s like saying I’m glad your father’s dead, but - so glad I can tell you now, so glad -”

“Merlin -”

“ - me to leave -”

“ _Merlin!_ You do realize I’ve known for nearly two years? I only didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if _you_ knew. It would be just like you to have magical powers and not know you had them.”

Shawn and Gus peeled their eyes away long enough to mouth “Magic!” and exchange a series of high, low, and medium fives - and for Shawn to consider the enchilada-related possibilities - before getting back down to business.

Which turned out to be exactly what Pendragon and Emrys were doing. The kind of business that went well with cliché bearskin rugs and roaring fires.

“Gus, where do people get firewood from in Santa Barbara, anyway? It’s not like we have more than five minutes of winter.”

Gus didn’t answer, and Shawn didn’t care, because just then Emrys said something in a very weird language, and all of Pendragon’s clothes disappeared.

All of Pendragon’s clothes _disappeared_.

“Now there’s a skill to have,” Shawn breathed.

“You know that’s right.”

“Gus, hear me out.” Shawn’s heartbeat was doing funny things. Funny, interesting things. "I believe we owe it to the investigation to find out what else Emrys can do.”

"Seeing as the breaking and entering and invasion of privacy trains have already left the station? I agree."

Shawn gasped. Not because Gus had agreed with him, although that was startling enough, but because it appeared Pendragon - though not magical - had a pretty impressive skill-set of his own. He was doing things to Emrys’ cock with his tongue that Shawn had never dreamed of.

“Dammit, Gus, why did I have to be born in a country where male circumcision is the norm? Why?”

Gus responded by grabbing Shawn’s arm and shushing him. He didn’t let go when he was done with the shushing.

A foreskin looked like an awesome thing to have. Pendragon appeared to be done licking for the moment, and had switched to using his hand, pulling the skin up slowly, all the way up over the head; the harder Emrys got, the tighter it stretched. Shawn made a fist, feeling skin go taut over his knuckles, wondering how that might feel over the tip of his cock.

Damn good, he thought.

Emrys seemed to think so. He was panting now, fast, huffing breaths, and Gus' grip on Shawn's arm was getting painfully tight. To keep Gus from palming his own cock, Shawn knew, because if Shawn couldn’t make his fingernails cut his palm any harder, he'd be the first one to crack.

Gus had mocked the dress code. But the dress code had provided them with tight jeans that wouldn't show stains, and if that wasn’t foresight on Shawn’s part, nay, bordering on _precognition_ , then he didn’t know what was.

* * *

**31**

fusion: Twilight

Merlin looks up from his meal just in time to watch a group of newcomers enter the hall. A beautiful girl with long midnight black hair walking hand in hand with a tall bearded man and other two handsome brunets. Those three gorgeous male speciments would most definitely made it to his top twenty of wank fantasies.

“Who are they?” Merlin asks, glancing towards the mystery group’s table.

“Pendragons. Morgana, Leon, Gwaine and Percy,” Will says, not so subtly pointing at each of the mentioned. “They’re weird,” he adds.

“But you’d still bang Morgana,” Gwen says.

“If her own brother wasn’t doing her already,” Will says. “And I’m pretty sure Gwaine’s shagging with Percy. Or the other way around.”

Merlin doesn’t have too much time to wonder whether his new friends are taking the piss before the door opens again and the most fuckable blonde marches inside.

“And here goes Arthur,” Gwen says, her expression a bit dreamy.

“He doesn’t date lowly peasants like us,” Will says when he looks at Merlin with a smirk.

=+=+=+=+=

Of course the only empty seat in biology is right next to Arthur. And of course Arthur is acting like a blushing maiden. Only without the blushing.

=+=+=+=+=

“Are you stalking me, or what?” Merlin asks when he finds Arthur waiting for him after his last class of the day. 

Arthur shrugs.

“There’s something about you. I just can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“Seriously? Cheap pick up lines?” Merlin asks.

Arthur looks genuinely confused.

=+=+=+=+=

“Wow,” Merlin says, eyes wide. “You just stopped that car with your bare hands.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Arthur says, lowering Merlin to the ground and pulling away in an obvious attempt to run away.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Merlin growls and his eyes flash gold.

“Oh,” Arthur gasps in surprise as some unseen force holds him in place.

He doesn’t fight it when Merlin brings their lips together.

=+=+=+=+=

“You don’t mind daylight, so why do you avoid direct sunlight?” Merlin asks, sprawled on the mossy ground of the forest.

“It’s embarrassing,” Arthur says.

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

Arthur sighs and steps into the clearing and... his skin sparkles.

At first, Merlin just stares, but then he bursts into laughter and Arthur scowls at him.

“Is it the same for every vampire or is it just the gay thing?” Merlin asks in between giggles.

=+=+=+=+=

 

“Do you want me to put in some graph or are we...”

Arthur looks up, words dying on his lips as he takes in Merlin standing in the middle of the room, dressed in Arthur’s shirt only.

“How about you put something else somewhere else?” Merlin says with a geeky grin and moves towards Arthur.

Arthur tenses when Merlin pushes their schoolwork aside and climbs onto Arthur’s lap, his arms winding around Arthur’s neck.

“I’m horny. Fuck me,” Merlin says.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur says. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s a great idea,” Merlin says and leads Arthur’s fingers to his opening. “I practiced every night,” he breathes into Arthur’s ear as he pushes Arthur’s forefinger inside.

Arthur growls and practically throws Merlin on the bed. He’s quick in removing his trousers, revealing the long line of his erection.

Merlin lets his legs fall apart shamelessly and Arthur crawls in between them. His kisses are rough and demanding and Merlin cries out in shock when Arthur shoves his cock deep inside him without warning. But Merlin wouldn’t want it any other way. 

=+=+=+=+=

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Arthur asks, searching Merlin’s eyes for any sort of uncertainty.

“Absolutely,” Merlin says, and Arthur doesn’t find any.

He lets his fangs descend.

=+=+=+=+=

“Oh great, now I’m sparkling too...”

* * *

**32**

Crossover with Mercedes Lackey's [ The Last Herald Mage](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mercedes_Lackey#The_Last_Herald_Mage) novel trilogy.

 

“He doesn’t know, does he?” Vanyel whispers into the strange mage’s rather large but oddly lovely ear.

“Who doesn’t know what?” Eyes like cobalt glass gleam with confusion.

“The man you love, he doesn’t know, does he?” The Herald-Mage skims his fingers through the silky black hair covering the tautly muscled chest he’s been resting his face upon.

“No, he…he’s not, he’s not like we are. He loves me as a friend, no more… _never_ more than that.”

Two pairs of long slender legs twine together on the rough cushion of an army bedroll while the canvas of their small tent flaps above them but doesn’t yield to the wind and rain lashing the fragile shelter. They lay where they’d fallen together after fighting off a band of Karsite bandits back to back, two against a hundred. The Karsites never had a chance.

“You should tell him.”

“I can’t. He loves another, a woman, a dear friend...and she loves him. I couldn’t…I _won’t_ burden him like that.”

“Are you truly sure it’s a burden he wouldn’t welcome?”

“No. Sometimes…sometimes he looks at me…well, it doesn’t matter, I just can’t.”

“There’s something else stopping you, isn’t there?” 

Vanyel aches as he watches the curve of lush pink lips twist into a self-mocking smile. This strange, lovely man had appeared out of nowhere and taken one look at the older, embattled mage before putting his back to Vanyel’s without a moment’s hesitation. Where had he come from? After the lust that heated in battle had cooled on their skin, he’d asked and been answered. The Herald-Mage had never heard of Camelot and Merlin had been unable to explain how to reach it or even how he’d reached Valdemar, only that he’d felt the pull of Vanyel’s need and had answered.

“He doesn’t know I have magic and if he finds out, he’ll likely execute me for it.”

“What! How…how can he not? You fair glow with power! I’ve never seen a mage so powerful before.”

“Except you.”

“I wouldn’t want to test that theory. There’d likely be nothing left of Valdemar but a smoking crater like the Southern Plane after the Mage-Wars.”

The young mage, Merlin, squirms uncomfortably for a moment under his intense scrutiny.

“Magic is forbidden in Camelot. Arthur, my King, his father banned it shortly after Arthur’s birth and had anyone with even a hint of magic slaughtered. None were spared, not even swaddled babes.”

Vanyel shakes long, silver-streaked, black hair from his face and fixes Merlin with a knowing look.

“And your Arthur…has never sought to change this law, not even for your sake?”

Merlin startles.

“How did you…? Well, like I said, he doesn’t know, not one or the other.”

“Still, you should tell him…you never know how long you’ll have him…you’ll regret it if you never get to…if he never knows how you care.”

The lithe, slender mage turns in his arms and meets his silver stare.

“Is that what happened to you? Why there’s so much pain in your soul even your power pulses with it?”

Eyes darken to gunmetal as his focus turns inward; Vanyel answers the only way he can.

“No, he knew…it wasn’t… _I_ wasn’t enough to save him from his demons.”

“You can’t save anyone from themselves. _Arthur_ taught me that. You’re not to blame. Will you ever let yourself love anyone again?”

Silver clashes with sapphire and Vanyel’s gaze becomes challenging.

“Will you ever tell your King what you feel for him? What you do for him? What you’d give up for him?”

“He already knows I’d die for him. Does one of three count?”

Slender fingers as long as Merlin’s comb the unruly hair from his wrinkled brow and smooth the lines there.

“Has anyone ever won _anything_ with such a score as ‘one of three’?”

“If I could even enter to play, I’d burn myself to cinder to win but I can’t even place a piece on the board.”

So much in common, Vanyel thinks. All the power in the cosmos at their fingertips but neither could ever have what they most wanted. Both had hearts freely given and taken away somewhere they couldn’t follow. Duty was all that held them fast to hollow life and it was unlikely to ever change for either of them.

“Will you go back?” He isn’t sure why he asks, he already knows the answer.

“Always. I’ll always return but I can yet bide here a while. I’ll not be missed unless I choose to be.”

* * *

**33**

Fusion: [Once Upon A Time](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Once_Upon_a_Time_%28TV_series%29/)

“I own your heart and I will crush it to dust if you do not do as I say,” Morgana growls and squeezes the heart she just ripped from his chest. Gwaine collapses on the floor at her feet in agony. “You're now mine, my pet. And this is your cage. From this moment forward, you will do everything that I say. And if you ever disobey me, if you ever try to run away, all I have to do is squeeze.” She puts his heart into one of the many drawers lining the room. 

“Guards, take him to my bed chamber and see that he doesn’t leave,” she orders.   
Two burly guards pick Gwaine up off the floor of the Chamber of Hearts and drag him to her bedroom dropping him in a heap on the floor. 

Morgana strolls into her bedroom two hours later. Never due to appear too eager better to make him wait. Gwaine is shackled by the ankle to her bedpost. Sitting on the side of the bed glowering at her. 

“This will never due at all,” Morgana smirks and waves her hand. Gwaine is dragged across the bed as shackles appear at each bed post securing him spread-eagled. “Much better,” Morgana purrs.

“We’ll really have to do something about this,” Morgana waves her hand again and his clothes disappear.

“Crazy bitch,” Gwaine mutters under his breath as he squirms against the restraints.   
Morgana smirks and looks pointedly at his crotch, “that doesn’t seem to be an issue with certain parts of your anatomy.”

“I never said I had the best taste,” Gwaine says slowly still testing the restraints, making his body move in a slithery slide. 

Morgana watches and licks her lips, “this is going to be fun”. She smiles and steps closer to the bed her black dress disappearing as she moves leaving her in nothing but a tight black corset.

Gwaine’s eyes go cloudy with lust as he sees her breast pushed up by the corset and her nipples hardening under his gaze. He lets out a strangled gasp as she reaches the bed and straddles his hips. Her wet pussy rubbing against his erection, she lets out a little gasp and leans forward so her nipples rub against his lips. 

“If you bite me I will punish you,” She says as she rubs her hard nipples against his lips. The scruff on his face reddening them and making them sensitive, she moans when he opens his mouth and takes one in, not sucking but just holding it in his hot mouth waiting for her to make her next move.

Morgana starts moving her hips up and down rubbing against Gwaine’s hot cock, her nipple popping in and out of his mouth with every thrust. 

“Tease,” Gwaine mumbles around her nipple lightly biting down the next time it entered his mouth. 

“Ahh,” Morgana breathes, “You’ll pay for that.” She pulls her nipple from his mouth and sits back still rubbing her pussy against his cock getting them both soaking wet. 

“Gnngh,” Gwaine groans, as he strains against his bonds. 

“You are completely evil. I will not beg,” Gwaine’s eyes are feverish and his neck straining as he tosses his head from side to side, his hips thrusting up only for Morgana to pull back just out of reach. 

Morgana leans forward the lace on her corset scratching his chest, “I think you will,” she whispers and settles back down to rub against his dick. 

Gwaine rears back and pulls against his bonds. The magical restraints not budging as he falls back to the bed breathing hard. Morgana laughs and touches his dick between them, feather light almost not there. Slicking her finger across the head of his cock gathering the pre-cum and swirling it around, she pulls her finger back and pops it in her mouth licking it clean. Looking him in the eyes the whole time, daring him. 

“You win,” Gwaine says quietly, “Please, please fuck me, please.” He writhes beneath her ready and waiting. 

Morgana smirk and lifts up impaling herself on his length. “Really, was that so bad?” she says a little breathlessly as she moves on top of him. 

Gwaine gives a strangled moan and comes almost instantly inside her. Morgana pulls off him, reaches between her legs and brings herself to orgasm.

“We’ll have to work on your stamina,” she smirks as she gets up and prepares to leave the room.

* * *

**34**

Fusion:USA Network's La Femme Nikita.

Reflexes improved nominally. Coordination was still below average. Section would have Merlin placed in abeyance already if not for Arthur saving him on more than one occasion. 

All wasn't lost though. Merlin was the embodiment of seduction and interrogation, so his last test before becoming a real field agent (or dying in Abeyance)was to get information regarding last week's failed Bulgaria mission. Arthur, the best in Section 1, led the teams involved. He never failed before and there were suspicions as to why he would sabotage his own infiltration. Things that took months to set up weren't simply tossed aside on a whim.

Merlin leaned against the wall to Arthur's private office. "Miss me?" 

They had chemistry during Merlin's training, but never quite managed to act on it.

"I don't have time for whatever you want _MER_ lin." Arthur didn't even look up from his workstation.

"Not true. You always make time for me, because I'm your favorite student."

"There are no favorites in Section. We're all expendable." 

The sentence was meant as a dismissal. Merlin needed to reveal something of interest so Arthur would ask him to stay. He remembered a phrase from his training. _'Partial truths helped to win wars.'_

"I'm going to be placed in Abeyance if I can't seduce you right here and now, so I guess you're right. I'm expendable." Merlin turned to leave the room, He was counting on Arthur's sense of honor to family and friends. Even though no one in Section had such ties. All agents were legally dead and given code names, silly things like 'Merlin' and 'Arthur'.

Merlin was nearly down the hall when a hand rested on his shoulder. It was too familiar for him to attack like his training was telling him to, and the calmness of it was false since the owner just ran to catch up.

The licking of lips was amateurish, but the cat already leapt out of the bag, might as well shred the thing so the creature never had to go back into hiding. With wet lips parted, lidded eyes, and a 'come hither-fuck me-I dare you' stare, Merlin turned around to face Arthur.

He giggled when forcibly dragged back to Arthur office in full view of the surveillance cameras, AND Operations.   
Merlin knew Arthur secretly liked it when he giggled.

"Should I leave myself open to the cameras they put in here? or will they medically check you after?" Arthur said as he pushed Merlin to the now closed office door.

"Neither and Both." Merlin pointed over to the door frame where he had left a small camera/ listening device, "and they will check me later after they drug me."

Arthur nodded. He understood how things worked better than anyone.

Fingers closed around Merlin's wrists and forced arms over his head. Hips pushed into Merlin hard and unyielding. His submission to lips however would never take place. Merlin discovered he loved kissing Arthur. Loved the taste of him at the tip of his tongue. For this pleasure he fought to keep contact. More licks to Arthur's mouth and tongue, both teased and warn with teeth. 

Merlin moaned arching into every perfectly trained muscle. Both of his wrists were pulled together in one hand. Fingers stroked down his side and found their way around his fully erect...Arthur's finger's were slick with lube. But when did he..."Oh God." Merlin groaned. 

Arthur was a professional in all aspects, undoing an additional button with the messy flick of a thumb. "Damn it! Don't stop." Merlin's pushed forward with his hips. He needed more of that twirling pull with just the slightest hint of fingernail along a vein. "Fuck."

Merlin's sex brain finally clear enough after that first orgasm for him to put some pieces together. 

Arthur knew section and it's policies better than anyone. 

Merlin was his closest student but also teetering on the edge of a rather permanent deadly dismissal. 

Merlin reached out and smashed the recording device with his fist.

"You did this on purpose. You failed your mission so you could fuck me? Save me?" The implications of real attachment within Section could get them both killed. Arthur already sabotaged a mission for Merlin.

Arthur kissed his nose, then chin. "I would do that and more for you."

* * *

**35**

Fusion: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

This was the worst day of Arthur’s life.

It couldn’t get much worse, either: The house was in shambles, there was a cut above his left eye that stung like a bitch, and he and his husband had guns in each other’s faces.

In all honesty, Arthur hadn’t really expected things to come to this. Their fighting had mostly been fuelled by a mutual sense of betrayal; each having learned that the other was a spy for a different company.

(Of course, in that regard they were both at fault for not having been honest with each other, but it was the _principle_ of the thing.)

And yet, here they were.

Part of Arthur wished he was back in marriage counselling, and his greatest regret was that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex with Merlin.

But in the end, it _had_ come to this, and one of them had to pull the trigger eventually. Arthur knew it wasn’t going to be him, but he wouldn’t back down, either. He wasn’t the type.

Finally, Merlin was the one to step down, shaking his head as he lowered the gun. “I _can’t_ ,” he said, voice strained. “I can’t.”

Arthur’s grip on his gun tightened. “Come on.”

Merlin shook his head again.

“ _Come on!_ ” Arthur shouted.

But Merlin continued to refuse, and Arthur was left glaring at him, gun still firmly up until Merlin’s impatience got the better of him and he smacked the gun out of Arthur’s hand.

Arthur didn’t even have time to reprimand him before Merlin swooped in, kissing Arthur fiercely, desperately, and _God_ , Arthur had never loved Merlin’s slight height advantage more as he clutched at Merlin’s hair, kissing him back fervently.

They were both hard, and Arthur was absurdly pleased to feel physical evidence that Merlin wanted him as much as he did Merlin.

It really had been far too long since they’d last had sex.

Still, there was far too much clothing involved currently for that to happen. Merlin seemed to feel the same; they stripped down without hesitation, and Arthur was quick to push Merlin back against the wall, admiring the picture Merlin presented for a moment before he surged forward, placing his hands against the wall on either side of Merlin’s head as he kissed him again hungrily.

Merlin kissed back eagerly, his arms around Arthur’s neck, and with all the skill of a trained spy (and aided by the wall behind him for support) lifted his legs and wrapped them around Arthur’s waist.

Arthur was _more_ than ready, but his mind wasn’t so clouded by desire that he didn’t realise something very important—

“Shit, I don’t have anything.”

“It’s okay, just do it.”

“But it’s been so long since—I don’t want to hurt you—”

“Arthur? Shut up and fuck me.”

And Arthur was desperate enough to go along with Merlin’s demand.

He pressed his forehead against Merlin’s, placing a small kiss to his lips and whispering a soft “I love you” against them before abruptly thrusting up into Merlin’s body, stilling completely once fully inside.

Arthur wasn’t sure how long they remained like that; he determinedly didn’t move, pressing feather-soft kisses against Merlin’s face, trying to remember that this was what Merlin had wanted, and he didn’t need to feel guilty about it.

Eventually Merlin nodded his head, giving Arthur the go ahead, and his hands fell from the wall onto Merlin’s shoulders as he began thrusting properly, groaning lowly as he relished in the small moans coming from Merlin, the way Merlin urged him to _faster, go faster_.

Arthur never wanted to lose this again with Merlin; he never wanted to forget what Merlin looked like when he came, silently, back arching off the wall as his come splattered between him and Arthur, and how it was the most beautiful sight Arthur had ever seen.

Merlin sunk back against the wall, panting heavily as Arthur continued thrusting into him, until Arthur finally stiffened, a groan emerging from his lips as he came what felt like endlessly into Merlin.

Arthur pulled out gently, the action drawing a faint whimper from Merlin; he unwrapped his legs from around Arthur’s waist and the two of them sunk down to the floor, exchanging kisses and soft endearments.

It wasn’t so bad, really: The house had insurance, the cut above his eye didn’t sting anymore, and he’d finally had sex with his husband again.

This was the best day of Arthur’s life.

* * *

**36**

**Fusion:** The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

"Stand your ground!" Arthur shouts, straining to be heard over the dragon that circles above their heads. The beast has been mindlessly attacking the outlying villages for days now, escaping to the skies before the guards can retaliate.

Arthur's not going to let that happen again; he has his best archers ready their bows, then gives the signal. "Fire!"

Most of the arrows bounce harmlessly off the dragon's thick hide, but some manage to pierce its scales, and the ground quakes as it lands. There's no cause for celebration yet; the dragon lashes out like any typical wounded creature and lets out a fiery burst of flames.

Yet Arthur continues to advance, wiping the grimy sweat from his brow as it threatens to run into his eyes. This is what he was born to do, and if he dies doing it, it will be with pride.

In all the commotion, he almost misses the man running towards the dragon, clad only in a blue robe. The stranger raises his hands, crackling with electricity, and Arthur rolls his eyes. He holds no respect for mages; in his experience, most of them think a few tricks they learn at that forsaken college in Winterhold can replace an actual weapon.

But then the unexpected happens: the dragon roars.

 _And the man roars back_.

If there's any remaining doubt left in Arthur's mind, it vanishes when the beast is actually slain and a whirlwind surrounds the mage. Arthur's sword clatters to the ground as he realizes what he's just witnessed. "By the Nine..."

**

"I can't believe a scrawny thing like you is the Dragonborn," Arthur says as they gather around the campfire later that night. Some of his men have been injured, but Arthur knows it could have been worse. "What's your name?"

The man ducks his head down, almost as if he’s embarrassed by the attention. It’s hardly behavior befitting one who has the soul and blood of a dragon coursing through his veins.

“I’m Merlin,” he says, "and I know, but it’s true.”

Arthur knows anyone could be selected by the gods to receive such a gift. He also knows how rare it is to discover a Dragonborn in one's lifetime; his father never did, nor his father's father.

So even though he still wonders how the lanky man in front of him is the one they’ve been waiting for, Arthur will not shirk his duties. 

 

“Then, _Mer_ lin,” he says, getting down on his knees, “as Captain of the Blades, I, Arthur Pen Draig, am sworn to your service.”

**

“Are you mad?!" Arthur yells as soon as they enter the privacy of the tent, vaguely aware that their voices carry throughout the camp. “What made you think you could take on two at once?”

“I defeated them, didn’t I?” Merlin grins cheekily as he favors his good leg, the only one of the men who was injured this time. Even though Merlin is stronger than Arthur originally thought, the selfless idiot is too brash and reckless, dashing into a fight like a Khajit on a bad batch of skooma.

Arthur grabs Merlin by the arms and resists the urge to shake some sense into him. If Arthur falls in battle, there are plenty of men to take his place. But if Merlin falls, who knows when another Dragonborn would reveal themselves? “Do _not_ do that again.”

They must both recognize the desperation in Arthur’s voice, because Merlin barely whispers Arthur’s name before their lips suddenly crash together in a frenzied rush. They shed armor and clothing as they fall down onto the ground, their hands scrambling to cover every inch of each other's bodies.

Arthur uses his tongue and fingers to work Merlin open, stretching and filling him until Merlin is writhing in ecstasy. Only then does Arthur slowly slide his cock inside, treating Merlin like something fragile instead of one of the most powerful men Arthur knows.

But then there's a low rumble in Merlin's chest that commands Arthur to _move_ , and Arthur quickly complies. As he watches Merlin arch his back at every rapid thrust, Arthur understands: this is the man he will serve for the rest of his life.

And when Merlin thinks he carries the weight of all of Tamriel on his shoulders, Arthur will be there to share the burden.

**

In the night, a dragon calls out, and its mate soon answers.

* * *

**37**

Fusion with Before Sunrise

_I’ll carry you. You’ll carry me/That’s how it could be_

Gwaine noticed the guy almost immediately. He was reading a book, something arty no doubt, and curled up in his seat. Gwaine considered not sitting near him, leaving the boy perfect in his mind, but he was still stinging from Morgana’s harsh words and it wasn’t like it would come to anything. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?”

The man looked up and shrugged. 

“Do you speak English? Anglais?”

“Yeah,” He said, with a slight Welsh accent. Gwaine laughed and sat down.

###

The man’s name was Merlin and he was more than willing to listen to Gwaine’s blather. 

“Where are you heading?”

“Paris, I’m studying there. You?”

“Vienna.” 

“What’s there?” 

“My plane home.” 

###

“So, you’ve been riding the trains for weeks?”

“Yeah, it’s been nice, actually. Seeing lots of scenery and meeting lots of people.” 

“So, what, I’m just one in a long line of people you’ve charmed?”

“You find me charming, Merlin?”

Merlin flushed, fiddling with his book. 

 

###

His stop was approaching fast and Gwaine started to panic. 

“Listen, this is insane, ok? But I need to ask. Get off this train here. Come check out Vienna with me.” 

“What?” 

“I fly out tomorrow and I don’t have money for a hotel, so I was just going to wander around the town for tonight. I really want to keep talking with you. If I turn out to be a psycho, you can jump on the next train.” 

Merlin looked at him. 

“Ok.” Merlin said quietly.

“Really?” 

“I’ll get my bag.” 

 

###

“My father left my mother before I was born. I was so angry, for the longest time. Angry at my mother, for not going after him, making him stay. Angry at myself.”

“Why?”

“I had it in my head that they had a perfect relationship, and I came along and ruined it.” 

“Really?”

“I was a very dramatic teenager. My mother was so supportive, all the time, so I had to try to fuck myself up.” 

###

Merlin ordered them coffee and sandwiches in perfect French, making Gwaine hot and tingly all over.

“How did your survive before you met me?”

 _I’m not entirely sure, any more_ but what Gwaine actually said was “My roguish good looks and Charades.”

Merlin laughed, and Gwaine smiled, queasy with want.

###

“My father’s dead.” Gwaine said, words escaping his mouth in a puff of condensation. 

Merlin’s hand was cold around his.

### 

Gwaine looked up at the stars. 

“Sometimes I stay up all night for no reason, just for this part of the night.” 

“Hm?” Merlin asked, sleepy. His head was a warm heavy weight against Gwaine’s shoulder.

“This part of the night – pretty much everyone’s gone to bed, other than the people who need to be awake,”

“And insomniacs.” 

“And insomniacs,” Gwaine agreed. “And it’s just nice. Quiet. Secret, almost. Like everyone’s got a connection.” 

Merlin just hummed.

###

Merlin leaned forward, braver than Gwaine, and kissed him. Cold hands tangled in his hair and pulled him forward. Gwaine’s hands caught at Merlin’s waist. They tumbled to the grass, Gwaine squirmed at the feel of the damp grass through his shirt. 

“We could be seen.” 

“We’ll have to be quiet then,” Merlin said, tugging at Gwaine’s belt. Gwaine bit his lip at the first feel of Merlin’s breath, incredibly hot against his skin. He made a helpless noise when Merlin’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock. 

The suction was perfect, wonderful, and he might have babbled that out, fingers digging into Merlin’s shoulders. 

When he came back to himself, panting at the stars, Merlin was curled up next to him. His erection was digging into Gwaine’s thigh. Gwaine got his hands to co-operate and wrapped them around Merlin’s cock, swallowing his whimpers with a kiss.

###

They watched the sunrise together. They didn’t talk about what it meant. The walk to the airport was meandering and quiet, conversation punctuated with the occasional yawn. 

“Listen,” Merlin said, pulling a notebook out a ripping a piece of paper out. “As much as I want to do the whole ‘this is perfect, lets keep it this way and not sully it with reality’ thing, I also really like you, and I’ll be back in the UK in a few years. Here’s my email.” Merlin scribbled on the paper and shoved it into Gwaine’s hand. “Please?” 

Gwaine pulled him into a kiss. “Yes, yes.”

Gwaine would’ve agreed to anything for the smile he got in return.

* * *

**38**

Fusion: Firefly

Gwen has no doubts about what it is that draws her to Merlin. It's his quiet competency, the steadiness of his hands on Serenity's controls. It's in the way he can make her laugh despite herself even in the most dire situations, and the way he's just as responsible as Arthur is for bringing them safely from one planet to the next but he doesn't even seem to realize it.

Gwen understands all that, and while she might have once stewed over her attraction to and love for this impossible man, the years have worn away the edges of that strangeness. But what she doesn't get, what she just can't ever manage to wrap her head around is what he sees in her. She'd have pegged him as the sort of man who'd go for someone more like himself, someone quick to smile and handy with a joke. Gwen's more comfortable with guns than humor, and while she's grateful for it every day, she knows she's not the only one who doesn't really get their relationship.

The ship has just settled down after a near miss with an Alliance patrol at the dock, and most everyone has retired to their bunks to relieve the stress in their own way. Merlin's brought one of his little plastic dinosaurs from the helm and is sitting cross-legged on the bed with it, not playing, just idly fingering it with a far-away look. Gwen's got her gun disassembled and spread out neatly across the blankets. The methodical process of cleaning and oiling gives her hands a chance to steady from the rush of adrenaline, from the fear of seeing Merlin in the line of fire.

She's just wiping oil off of the stock when the hair prickles at the back of her neck and she realizes that Merlin's very quiet and very still. Even the small motions of his fingers on the dinosaur toy have stilled. He's just sitting, watching her in an attentive way that feels too much like studying, like sizing an opponent up.

"What is it?" she asks without looking up, keeping her words even and her tone neutral.

Merlin clears his throat and shifts up onto his knees, scooting closer. "Nothing."

She puts the barrel down and looks at him. He's staring at her hands, a faint furrow between his brows. "Merlin…" This time, it's a low rumble, a gentle warning. His cheeks flush pink and he busies himself setting the stegosaurus aside on their minuscule bedside table.

"Nothing," he says again, softer, yearning. "It's just…" And he reaches over, covers her hands with his where they're curled around the pieces of the disassembled gun. He catches his lip between his teeth and his eyes have a faraway look to them, and that expression is one that she knows intimately.

She likes having everything laid out neat and orderly, she finds it calming, but it takes her half a second to sweep it all aside and roll him over beneath her. His eyes are dark, his lips parted, begging for a kiss, and she can't deny him. She leans in and catches his mouth with hers, strips his clothes off just as methodically as she does everything, and smiles at the way he trembles beneath her palm.

She rides him, fingers twined together and hands pressed palm-to-palm, rides him until neither of them are anything like calm or soothed but it doesn't matter because anything beyond their room has ceased to exist. She likes the way she can lose herself in him, how he can strip away the neatness, the orderliness, and do it in such a way that it doesn't feel like a loss.

Afterwards, she retrieves the pieces of the disassembled gun and lays them out as they were before, resumes the process of cleaning and reassembling it. Merlin presses against her back, slides his palms down her arms until his hands cover hers once more. He traces his fingertips over the backs of her fingers, but when she stills, he murmurs a protest against the nape of her neck.

"Don't," he says, lips warm on her skin. "Don't stop. Gods, I love your hands."

She continues slowly, excruciatingly aware of the way Merlin watches her hands move like he can't get enough of it.

He looks at her the way she looks at him, when he's sitting at Serenity's controls and perfectly in his element, and she thinks maybe she understands everything a little better now.

* * *

**39**

FUSION: X-MEN

 

Arthur has always felt ashamed of his powers. When you’re raised by a parent who has devoted his life to fighting against mutant rights, it’s only natural to feel horror when the beginning of your powers manifest. For Arthur, his fourteenth birthday was the worst day of his life.

Morgana, of course, had been delighted. She was no longer alone. Together, the Pendragon siblings would keep their secret, right under Uther’s nose.

But where Morgana felt pride, Arthur only felt fear, and he hid his powers away. He didn’t admit it to his sister (“It’s dangerous, Morgana, why should I flaunt it?”), but he was scared of what he could do.

Sometimes, when Arthur was feeling emotional (when he watched Morgana muttering the future in her sleep, when Uther triumphantly crowed over his anti-mutant victories at the dinner table, when he thought about touching the boy next door’s cock), he thought he could burn their home down.

When Professor Gaius came to Camelot House eight months later to collect the Pendragon children, Arthur’s life changed. He went to Albion School, a sanctuary for mutants, and he was free.

But Arthur could never let go of the shame he felt when he smiled at his father and lied, again and again. 

Nothing could ever change that.

*

Somehow, a peaceful picnic on the grounds has turned into a debate about mutant politics. Arthur hates it when this happens, but most of all, he hates it when it’s Merlin he’s arguing with.

“We shouldn’t have to hide,” Merlin’s saying angrily. “We have rights too. There’s only going to more of us now; we’re not going anywhere, so everyone should just deal with that!”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Arthur argues. Merlin is so naive. Then again, he was raised by an accepting mother. Uther, on the other hand, has demonstrated all too clearly to Arthur the strength of ill will humans can bear towards mutants.

“It _is_ ,” Merlin snaps, and the plastic cups tremble. “We’re the same, but we have _more_. Cleverer people aren’t persecuted. Stronger people aren’t openly hated. Christ, even fags like me get less shit from the world!”

“ _Merlin_ ,” Gwen admonishes.

“Let him let it out,” Gwaine shrugs. “God knows he’s been wound up recently. Needs to get laid, if you ask me.”

“Are you offering, Gwaine?” Leon laughs, and then they’re all giggling like children who’ve heard a dirty joke. Except for Merlin, of course, who looks sullen and frustrated, and Arthur, wearing an expression of resigned tiredness on his face.

*

“Hey. About before... I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

Arthur shakes his head jerkily, his back to Merlin as he shuts their bedroom door. “It’s fine.”

Merlin frowns at the tense lines in Arthur’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?” He sees the shaking letter in Arthur’s hand; the burn marks on the paper around his fingertips are telling. Merlin’s instantly alert and at Arthur’s side. “What did he say?”

There are angry tears in Arthur’s eyes; he’s refusing to let them fall. “He won another case. He’s... happy. _So_ happy.”

Merlin grasps Arthur’s wrist tight, and doesn’t gasp at the burst of heat. This isn’t the first time Arthur’s burned him. Merlin’s other hand motions at the letter; it flies out of the window and shreds into a thousand pieces, immediately swept away by the wind.

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispers.

Arthur nods once; tries to smile at his roommate and best friend, but all he manages is a grimace.

“You know, Gwaine’s right,” Arthur eventually says, voice croaking after the stretch of silence between them. “You need to get laid.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of Merlin. “I’m seventeen, Arthur, I always need to get laid.”

Arthur turns his head to look Merlin in the eye. “I can help you with that.”

The smile falls off Merlin’s face as fast as it had risen. “What are you talking about, Arthur? You’re _straight_. You’ve dated half the girls at Albion.”

Arthur pulls himself out of Merlin’s grasp to place a palm on Merlin’s cheek. His hand is still warm, and he smiles sadly. 

“Merlin, I’m the best liar you’ve ever met.”

*

“You’re beautiful,” Arthur murmurs as Merlin arches beneath him, legs stretching wide and arse begging for more. “I’ve wanted this since I saw you making those origami cranes fly.”

Merlin moans and bites Arthur’s arm. “That was the day we met,” he pants, mewling as Arthur gives a particularly hard thrust.

“Yes,” Arthur groans, leaning down for Merlin’s lips. “ _Yes_.”

* * *

**40**

**Fusion:** Repo: A Genetic Opera

“Come on,” says the graverobber with his sometimes-blue-sometimes-gold eyes, smiling at Arthur and jumping over the graveyard fence. “You want to see the streets? You’d better stick with me.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Arthur objects, but the graverobber isn’t listening.

*

They clamor for him in the streets as they walk by. “Hey, magic-man, graverobber, I just need a little hit,” the words overlap and Arthur is caught in the din.

“What is this?” he asks, too loud.

“It’s the black market, kid,” says a woman coming out of nowhere, clinging on to the graverobber’s arm. She’s dark-haired, ethereal, moves like a cat and looks like one too. “Hey, Merlin, you got a little Z for me?”

“Always for my best customer. You got the money?” She hands it over, nodding eagerly, and the graverobber—Merlin—kisses her messy and deep, balancing himself on Arthur’s shoulder like it’s normal, and Arthur doesn’t realize he’s doing anything with his hands until the woman whines. When he looks down, there’s a vial of bright blue liquid being injected into her through a gun.

“What _is_ that?”

The woman moans, staggering back against the alley wall and sliding to the dirty ground, hand between her legs. Merlin just smiles. “It’s the 21st century’s cure. Where’ve you been all your life?” he asks, getting the next vial ready while everyone swarms around them, waving money, begging favors. “They’re addicted to the knife.”

“Addicted to the knife?”

“And they need something for the pain. So you put the gun against them …” He takes a man’s money seemingly at random and presses the gun against his stomach, eyes golden on Arthur’s the whole time. “And when it goes off, they’re ready for surgery.”

*

Arthur can’t go back home yet, still wondering about the mystery Blind Nim told him about, so he follows Merlin on the rest of his rounds, watching as he dispenses his Zydrate (drawn from _corpses_ , fuck, it horrifies Arthur when he realizes it), as he stops to talk to some of his customers. He palms cash to some of them, including the feline woman he dosed first, who gives him another messy kiss in thanks.

“Why do you do it?” Arthur asks when they get back to the crypt.

“Want my sob story, rich kid?” He points at his eyes. “I got this done too young, when I was stupid, and when my dad got repo’ed I paid them off doing this. And now I help them out there make their payments. What are you doing, taking the grand tour of humanity’s worst?”

“I had to see something real.” Something outside of the confines of his house where his father keeps him away from the world.

Merlin laughs. “Surgery’s as real as it gets.”

*

The feline girl crawls in the crypt window later, shaky and crying, coming down from her high. Merlin hushes her until she can speak. “Repo Man got Gilli.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_ , he told me he had a month till his payment was due.”

She cries horrible, heaving sobs until Merlin kisses her, mouth gentle on hers. She relaxes into his arms and he runs his hands over her back until she calms, and then they wander down to her arse, her thighs, to push her skirt up. When Arthur realizes what’s happening, he starts backing out of the crypt, but when Merlin catches his eyes he stops, unsure.

“I’ve got you, Freya,” Merlin says, and pushes his hand between her legs, which fall open. Arthur can’t see, from where he is, but he freezes anyway, and Merlin never looks away from him, not while Freya writhes in his lap, not while he unzips his trousers and slides inside her. His eyes flicker blue-gold-gold-blue while Arthur watches, and Arthur struggles against his arousal, his confusion, and doesn’t realize he’s drawing closer until his hand lands on Freya’s back and she’s bracketed between them.

She gasps when he touches her and comes, slumping forward into Merlin’s chest.

*

“You seem interested in the Zydrate,” Merlin says while he’s putting Freya to bed. “Want a hit? The first time’s free.”

Arthur shakes his head and backs off. “I’ve got to get home.”

“Whatever you say, rich kid.” He takes Arthur by the shoulder and kisses him, soft and sweet. “Just remember,” he whispers, “a dose of reality’s just as addictive as the Z. You’ll be back.”

* * *

**41**

Crossover: Sons of Anarchy

He never intended to stop in a hole like Charming, California. But when Percival saw the pair of men beating the shit out of someone at the side of the road, he slowed his bike to get a better look. It was always smart to assess before stopping and evening up the victim’s odds.

The second he saw the flash of blond hair beneath their fists, his brain stopped and instinct took over.

Neither man had a chance to pull a weapon before he broke one’s jaw and shot the other in the kneecap.

“Thanks.” 

Piercing eyes lifted to Percival’s when he offered the man on the ground a hand up. His heart stopped. _Arthur._ Except it wasn’t, of course, because Arthur was miles away, ensconced in his safe little home, living his life of secrets where the only man he allowed inside was Merlin. But this one, Jax, he said his name was, could’ve been a brother, same coloring, still had to tilt his strong jaw up to look at Percival. The only difference was the ghosts in his eyes.

Jax Teller knew loss. Percival didn’t hesitate giving him a ride into town. Or staying when Jax offered him a place to crash for the night.

One night became a month. Two. There was always somewhere to follow Jax, be there to back him up. The Sons appreciated men who knew how to get the job done without asking questions. They understood damnable loyalty. Some of them even died for it.

Percival made sure that was never Jax. No matter what it took.

“You stubborn son of a bitch.” Jax’s callused hands pressed the tape over the bandage on Percival’s shoulder blade, warm, reassuring. Grateful Jax couldn’t see his face, Percival gritted his teeth against the heat flooding through him. He was usually better at holding off his reactions to Jax’s presence, but the cloying scent of blood combined with the lingering touches of Jax’s fingers messed with his head. “I told you to get outta there.”

“They would’ve come back.”

“And we would’ve taken care of ‘em.”

“Now you don’t have to.”

“Idiot,” Jax muttered, but it wasn’t mean, never that, in spite of the face the other gangs saw, Jax didn’t have it in him. His hands dropped, their absence granting precious seconds for Percival to pull himself together.

But then coarse hairs tickled along his nape, soft lips drawing goosebumps to the surface of his skin. Percival shattered.

They clawed at each other’s clothes, ripping open button-flies, scratching at scars. Jax’s beard burned where it scraped across Percival’s arms, hungry mouth mapping the contour of muscles, teeth biting at sinew straining to fold Jax into him. The smell of leather clinging to Jax burst on Percival’s tongue when he got his turn, and his eyes burned from the sudden rush of emotion it evoked.

Jax tasted like home.

When he straddled Percival’s lap, he stroked their dripping cocks in tandem while Percival pushed two fingers past Jax’s lips. He only meant to wet them, but the tight pressure of Jax’s sucking went straight to his balls, and he groaned as he shallowly fucked Jax’s mouth. Jax was the one who swallowed him down to the knuckles, eyes blazing at the promise of what he’d do once he got his lips wrapped around Percival’s cock.

Now, though, they wanted—needed—something else, and Percival pulled free, reaching behind to bury his fingers inside Jax’s waiting hole.

Jax slammed their mouths together as he rode Percival’s hand, still devouring him when he rose up, angled Percival’s cock, sank down again with his ass stretching around Percival’s girth instead. It was tight, too tight maybe, tight enough to alarm Percival that he might be hurting him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow, didn’t do anything but shudder and moan into their kisses as he took Percival all the way in.

None of their losses mattered while their bodies merged. He could give himself over to the moment, take what he’d wanted for months, forget about everything he’d craved for years before.

Jax fell apart first, warm come splattering onto Percival’s stomach and chest as he writhed against him.

Percival followed, like he always did, like he always would.

Only one name burned on his lips. Only his burned on Jax’s.

They both had ghosts, but now, maybe for the first time ever, the ghosts didn’t have them.

* * *

**42**

Fusion: Police Academy

“Fuck.” Merlin smacked the rentboy’s fingers as they pulled at his zip. “Stop that.” Heart beating madly, he poked his head out the door to see if the coast was clear.

A few close calls later, Merlin entered the conference room which had a door directly into the parking lot. He was five steps from getting the hooker (Gwaine, the guy had said, with a flip of his hair) out of the building and maybe, _maybe_ not getting himself kicked out of the Academy.

He darted for the door, dragging Gwaine along behind. He didn’t know who’d snuck Gwaine into the Police Academy building or paid him to wait in Merlin’s room, but getting caught with a rentboy had to guarantee a trip home.

He caught sight of a group of officers entering the room from the far door and scrambled onto the stage. Frantically looking for a hiding spot, he pushed his ‘gift’ into the large podium and ducked in after.

“Sorry,” he said, embarrassed at his treatment of the hooker. He seemed nice enough. “We’ll just wait here.”

“Fine by me.” Gwaine winked and palmed Merlin’s crotch.

Merlin gasped, scrambling from the touch. “No, I’m not the customer.”

“No? Then who is, cutie?” Gwaine had a wolfish grin, like he had the best job in the world.

Merlin had to stifle a laugh. He peeked through the cracks in the wood at the front of the podium. The room was filling with people. Dread churned that morning’s breakfast in his belly as Commandant Pendragon made his way to the stage. There was no way he wasn’t going to be crucified for this.

The Commandant’s speech began, polished and clipped with his trademark stiffness. Merlin rolled his eyes and laughed when Gwaine did the same. If there was anyone who epitomised the emotionally stunted, rigid perfection of a police department bureaucrat, it was Arthur Pendragon. Merlin always wondered what it would be like to see that control slip a little.

The Commandant paused, and the sound of a zipper lowering echoed in the silent room.

Merlin shot a look over his shoulder and froze. Gwaine was grinning back at Merlin like a toddler reaching into a cookie jar not caring one whit that he’d been caught. In the next second Merlin registered that Gwaine’s hand held the Commandant’s cock.

Merlin shook his head, mouthing, “No, please, no.”

Gwaine smirked at him and sucked the head between his lips.

The dick was already stiffening, Merlin realized. It slipped out of Gwaine’s mouth and he tongued the slit like, well, like a professional. Merlin squirmed, not able to look away.

Arthur cleared his throat; Merlin’s heart skipped a beat. But Arthur didn’t pull away, didn’t call them out. He tried to continue his speech, choking over every second word. His cock thickened with every lap of Gwaine’s tongue.

Merlin’s pants grew tight. The podium smelled like sex. Arthur stumbled over his next word and it was _that_ , the cracks in Arthur’s poise, that had Merlin grasping his own cock, biting his lip to remain silent.

“This chart,” Arthur said, voice strangled as Gwaine gripped his hips, swallowing his cock like oxygen was optional. “Let’s just... look at it.” Arthur gasped. “Without words.”

Merlin stopped breathing. His rubbed his cock, rough and chafing through his uniform as he pictured Arthur standing before his peers, getting his cock sucked, his tightly held control shattering. Gwaine’s nose was smashed against Arthur’s pubes; he hummed in pleasure around Arthur’s cock.

Arthur’s hips stuttered, slamming in as he groaned.

Fist caught between his teeth, Merlin lost it, filling his boxers. He watched half-dazed as Gwaine kissed Arthur’s softening cock and tucked him back in. Then Gwaine turned to Merlin and kissed him until Merlin’s lips were swollen and his mouth tasted of Arthur.

“In conclusion.” The words trembled and Merlin was amazed Arthur had remained standing through it all. Arthur cleared his throat again. “In conclusion, the Academy is doing very well. Excellent, I would say. Thank you for your time.”

After a spattering of confused applause, the room fell silent.

As the last person left, Merlin sighed. “Wait here.”

He crawled from the podium to find Arthur leaning on a pillar, waiting for him.

Merlin knew his face was flushed, lips bruised and sticky, and his crotch had a wet spot.

But Arthur looked more pleasantly debauched than enraged, so Merlin grinned, sheepish, and gave Arthur two thumbs up. “Good speech, Sir.”

* * *

**43**

Fusion: One Direction

"Don't-" Arthur curled his fingers into the fabric of Merlin's shirt as he tried to keep Merlin from doing anything stupid, tried to keep himself from it more than that, maybe, if he was honest, because one of them had to not give in. "We can't, not here." 

They weren't even in a stall, only stood in front of the urinals, while small-town-DJs at yet another radio station waited for them to introduce the new song, the new album, the new tour, smile and talk about Arthur with Gwen and Merlin's glorious experience as unattached and happy. Meanwhile, Merlin was practically on his knees with Arthur's cock in his mouth.

"We don't have time," Arthur tried again as Merlin's fingers found their way under his shirt and into his boxers, fist tight around Arthur's cock as he jerked him and kissed him, oblivious and maybe a little turned on by the bustle of activity just outside those doors. Knowing anyone could walk in anytime. Could splash this over all the frontpages and make it headline news.

"Hate seeing you with her." Merlin practically chewed on Arthur's lips, made them ache, made Arthur want to go for Merlin's cock in turn. "Knowing you're mine."

They strolled out of the toilets with their hair only a little askew and no come stains for a change to Gwen pressing a kiss to Arthur's lips, caught on camera. Then to Elyan rolling his eyes and leading the answers in the interview a few minutes later, Percival sitting back and Gwaine running his mouth with useless innuendo. 

"It's been six, seven?, seven, months now, yeah," Arthur said in reply to a question, only narrowly avoiding looking at Merlin for confirmation and searching for Gwen behind the glass instead; Merlin who had a hickey just under his shirt collar, fingersized bruises on his hips and kept fidgeting with his arse sore from the fuck in the morning. "She's great. I love her." Arthur smiled. Merlin frowned. The interview wrapped.

Arthur and Gwen held hands outside the building, posing for the paps, as Merlin and the boys mucked about on the side, pulling faces and one-upping one another with silly stuff. Gwen leaned in closer, lips pressed to the side of Arthur's neck, then she squeezed his hand, and he leaned down to kiss her on the lips. He didn't need to open his eyes to feel Merlin glowing daggers at them both.

The ride in the car to the venue was frosty with Merlin as far away from Arthur was he could physically be in less than two square metres. They went to do the soundcheck and Merlin had Arthur cornered against a sharp bit of railing backstage only a minute in, half making him bend backwards to accomodate Merlin between his thighs and against his crotch.

"I hate it," Merlin whispered against Arthur's cheek, teeth sharp on Arthur's neck, shit at keeping the magic secret. 

Arthur saw Elyan watching, but Elyan just shook his head and shrugged and was probably about as tired as fuck as they all were of it when they didn't manage to huddle together in a too small bed and forget all the pressure for a moment.

"You know we can't," Arthur whispered back. He tried to make his hands soothing rather than frantic on Merlin's back, tried to dredge up all the logic about lasting another two years, making enough money to set them for life, and then living quietly somewhere.

Uther would kill them if he found them like this, Merlin on his knees with his face in Arthur's crotch, mouthing him through the fabric before he got Arthur's trousers down far enough to suck on his cock. Arthur's hand found its way into Merlin's hair, keeping his head there, as he thought of the headlines and the scandals, the explanations he'd have to give, the women Merlin would have to fuck like he'd had Freya to cover up Will and now him. 

Merlin's fingers were desperate as they pulled at Arthur's balls, a bit harder than quite comfortable, the hint of teeth on Arthur's cock more than a hint a bit too often, but when this was all they had when they both looked at photos of him and Gwen practically married, Arthur didn't have the heart to tell Merlin off for it.

Another album, another tour, another album after that and another tour after that, and then they'd disappear somewhere quiet. Get another flat. Live another life.

* * *

**44**

fusion - _Sports Night_

_(Interior, day but you wouldn’t know it; two gentlemen in suits, ARTHUR and GWAINE, sit at the well-lit desk in the centre of the sole stage of a televised sport programme.)_

GWAINE: Arthur.

ARTHUR: Gwaine.

GWAINE: Arthur!

FREYA _(from the control room, where she sits with MERLIN, the producer, and other associate producers and techs; GAIUS, the executive producer, stands behind them, surveying)_ : Freya!

MERLIN: Is this a game?

GAIUS: I bloody well hope so, otherwise I’m going to fire the lot of you.

MERLIN: But you wouldn’t, because this show means the world to you, and you think of us like family.

GAIUS: No, this show is very much a business to me, and I think of you all as my employees. _(leans down to the microphone on MERLIN’s desk and presses a button)_ Hope your CV is current, Pendragon.

ARTHUR: Love you too, sir.

GWAINE: Seriously, Arthur—

ARTHUR: Yes, seriously, I think Jenna Randall is hotter than Laura Bechtolsheimer and so help me God, if you take the piss out of her name on the air like you did with Kate Bush, I will throw my coffee on your lap and you won’t be able to perform—yes, I mean it that way—for a week.

MERLIN _(under his breath)_ : And if you bring it up one more time, I’m going to kill both of them and hold you hostage until you stop over-compensating, you closeted nancy-boy shirt-lifter.

_(GAIUS quirks his eyebrow)_

FREYA: Merlin…

MERLIN: Oh, good, yes, this really is a game. _(standing)_ I have an idea for another game, yeah? It’s called the ‘we have a show on the air in forty-five seconds’ game. Now, can we all act like adults for, oh, I dunno, the two minutes until the c-break? Best start small. _(shaking his head, leaning to type something on the laptop in front of him)_ Who made my wallpaper Neopets?

FREYA: You did.

MERLIN: Ah.

ARTHUR _(into the camera, but clearly to MERLIN)_ : You were saying?

CAMERA 1 OPERATOR: And in five… four…

GAIUS _(clutching at his chest)_ : Oh my heavens.

MERLIN _(immediately serious)_ : Gaius? You alright?

CAMERA 1 OPERATOR: Three… Two…

_(GAIUS whispers something into MERLIN’s ear. MERLIN gasps.)_

GWAINE _(into the camera)_ : All that and more, on tonight’s titillating show!

FREYA: I’m going to kill him.

MERLIN _(to GAIUS)_ : And you, what, FORGOT to tell us?

GAIUS _(shrugging)_ : Is it possible I forgot?

MERLIN: It’s quite possible you forgot, yes, you senile old man. _(beat; MERLIN is staring at the wall of monitors in front of him and thinking)_ And in that case… May I?

GAIUS _(gesturing grandly)_ : By all means.

_(MERLIN marches through the connecting door and onto the set.)_

ARTHUR _(to the camera)_ : …clearly the Rhinos were experiencing some difficulty in the—

_(MERLIN reaches across the desk, grabs ARTHUR’s tie, and kisses him soundly. GWAINE hoots.)_

GWAINE: I knew it! Pay up, all of you!

GAIUS: Well, that’s not quite what I had in mind… _(smiles)_ But it’ll do.

FREYA _(into the mic in front of her)_ : We’re not on the air, folks. Formula 1 went long, and OAP Gaius here forgot to tell us.

MERLIN _(whispering, into ARTHUR’s ear)_ : When the show goes down tonight, I am going to take you back to your flat and do things to you you haven’t imagined in even your wildest dreams. I’m going to lay you down and make your world rock so hard you’re not even going to remember how to spell ‘Bechtolsheimer.’

FREYA: He has a microphone on, Merlin. But thanks for that mental picture

GAIUS: Firing the lot of them.

*

Arthur is a stubborn arsehole, though. “B-E-C-H…”

Merlin huffs a laugh into Arthur’s chest, where he’s collapsed in a pile of sweat and come. “How are you not thoroughly shagged out right now?”

“I’m Arthur bloody Pendragon.”

Merlin groans. “Here we go.”

“T-O-L…”

Merlin slides two fingers through the mess, then lets them slide right down, down, down, past Arthur’s recovering cock and to his hole, which is gloriously used and messy.

He slips two fingers in unapologetically.

“Fuck!”

“Uh-huh.”

“S-H…”

“Tosser.” Crooks them.

“E-I…”

“Braggart.” Pushes on Arthur’s prostate again and again.

“ _Jesus_ fuck!”

“That’s more like it.”

Arthur’s cock pulses fitfully, and his body bows off the bed, his fingers fisting in Merlin’s hair. Merlin follows the tug and comes up to kiss him.

“M-E-R…” he feels whispered against his lips.

“Oh for the love of—“

Arthur kisses him again. “L…I…N.”

**_fin_ **


	6. Group C (without warnings)

**45**  
Fusion: Dollhouse

Arthur has loaded Delta up with every fantasy he can think of. He’s been a dungeon master, a foot fetishist, a contortionist, a slut for piss, and even a woman.

Arthur follows the rules. When Delta comes over, he hides all evidence of his life with Merlin. He knows not to confuse Delta with a past he can’t remember.

But sometimes Arthur thinks Merlin is with him, somewhere beneath the persona and the suffocating emptiness. Something about the way Delta holds Arthur’s hand as he comes or how he presses soft kisses behind Arthur’s ear as though he knows that gesture, as though it has sunk so far into his being that even the Dollhouse couldn’t wipe it away.

He says things like, “You never were any good at eggs,” when Arthur breaks the yolk _again_. Then he squints, as though surprised by knowledge he can’t source.

Arthur is surprised, too. He’s never had them program any of this into Delta’s head, never wanted him to know the things that Merlin knows. He’s never programmed Delta to love him.

*** 

This time, Delta comes to him as a Parisian escort. The truth is, Arthur’s so fucking sick of fantasy he could scream.

And he does scream, with four of Delta’s fingers up his ass. Delta, who thinks he’s Étienne, says, “I would very much like for you to fuck me now, Mr. Pendragon.”

Arthur nods up at him, watches as Delta pushes two lubed fingers into himself even as he pumps into Arthur’s ass, lips parted, a demure moan just barely emanating from his chest.

He’s perfect at being sexy, just like a high-class hooker should be, and Arthur feels terribly sad.

Delta pulls his fingers out of Arthur and pouts like he wants to keep them there. Arthur ignores the show, instead wrapping his fingers around Merlin’s—Delta’s—hips and pulling him up to hover over Arthur’s cock.

He’s still ashamed of this. After all this time, he still feels like he’s betraying Merlin with these mockeries—these _dolls_. When he comes back, will Merlin understand? Will he feel disgusted by the things his body did when his mind was trapped in a fucking box in Topher Brink’s playhouse?

Delta sinks down onto Arthur’s dick, and Arthur stops thinking about shame. He needs this, and the Dollhouse specializes in needs.

Delta fucks like a pro, all perfectly timed hitches of breath and twisting hips, until he doesn’t anymore.

He abruptly goes from telling Arthur how big and good he is to rocking silently, indulgently, as though every movement is for his own sake and not Arthur’s.

“Call me Merlin,” Delta whispers, and his French accent is gone.

Arthur wants to believe. He opens his eyes, and it _is_ Merlin. It’s the set of his brow and the jut of his lip and the way his hands curl into Arthur’s biceps.

“Fuck, baby,” Arthur whimpers, pulling his head down and kissing him.

He kisses like Merlin, the mixture of hesitation and intensity something no one could ever duplicate, manufacture, perfect.

“Call me Merlin,” he repeats against Arthur’s lips.

“Merlin,” Arthur says, and he has missed it. He has missed his lover’s name on his lips.

“Merlin, I miss you.”

Merlin kisses him again, and Arthur welcomes his tongue into his mouth, welcomes Merlin home.

Merlin fucks him slowly and deliberately, as though they’ll never do this again. His thumb brushing Arthur’s cheek and his small gasps of pleasure make Arthur feel like he’s drowning.

Merlin’s orgasm is quiet and long. When Arthur comes minutes later, it’s with Merlin’s hands cradling his face, and a too-intense eye contact Arthur can’t bear to look away from. Merlin rides him thorough it and then kisses him calm again.

*** 

Delta hesitates at the door and looks at Arthur. His hair is a beautiful mess. His expression is broken and full of longing.

Delta isn’t sure how much of him is Merlin and how much is everything else that’s been stuffed inside, but he feels Arthur’s pain as if it were his own. He thinks it’s Merlin’s, and he gives it a chance to be fully felt, for Merlin’s sake, before he shoves that heartache back into the box in his head labeled irrelevant.

“Soon,” he says, and then he leaves.

*** 

Arthur peeks through the curtains and watches Delta get into the van, his body language more confident than Merlin’s ever was.

Five years, was the contract. Only four to go.

* * *

**46**  
Crossover: Doctor Who [Specifically, "[The Wedding of River Song](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wedding_of_River_Song)"]

**22 April 2011, 5:02 p.m.**

Light fingers brush the hair from Morgana's face and stroke her cheek to bring her awake. She nestles into the touch, smiling, and kisses the palm of Gwen's hand. 

"You're up early." 

"I've brought breakfast," Gwen says, "chosen your gown, and found that new flat iron I really want to try on your hair."

Reluctant, Morgana opens her eyes, then smiles to see that Gwen's stripped back down to her shift, her nipples dark and tight beneath the thin muslin. She traces the lines of Gwen's collarbones and the curve of her breasts, tugs her laughing back into bed, and thinks that she could live this moment over and over again. 

*

"I've had an email from the Holy Roman Emperor. We're to send as many men as we can spare to Londinium. Arthur, send half by horse and let the rest take the Albion Express to the capital."

When Uther makes his announcement, the throne room falls silent and still. Something flickers in Morgana's mind and catches in her chest, but before she can grasp it, movement and noise rush back into the room.

*

"Everything will be fine."

Gwen's hand tucks warmly into Morgana's as they watch the great steam locomotive disappear into a distant, fading streak of red and gold. 

"I hope so," Morgana says, but she saw the look Merlin gave Gaius in the throne room, and the odd, intimate way he touched Arthur's wrist as they boarded the train. She's dreamt of the clock in her bedroom ticking time forward instead of staying stuck at the same minute mark and her life tumbling back into the past.

She snaps a hundred photos with her mobile on the walk back to the castle and imagines each a poem, a tapestry, a symphony or a moving picture, a memory of this Camelot captured before she feels the flickering again.

*

Morgana takes one last picture as the sheet slips from Gwen's shoulder before placing her mobile aside, face down so she can't see the clock.

"Are you finally done?" 

"For now." Morgana tugs the sheet down the rest of the way and slides in close enough to press her breasts to Gwen's as they rest on the bed. A hand between Gwen's thighs finds her still wet from their last round of sex a few hours before and Morgana hums with approval. "With the pictures, that is." 

Gwen shifts one leg to let Morgana finger her, stroking around her lips and clit until her breathing starts to come in quick, short pants. 

"Wait, let me," Gwen says and nudges Morgana away to rest on her back. "I just want--"

"--I know. Please?" 

Gwen settles between her thighs and leans down to nuzzle at each of Morgana's breasts, her lips and nose tickling already sensitized skin. Morgana sighs sharply, arching up closer to the way Gwen licks around her nipples, light, soft, and teasing. She noses under the curve of Morgana's breasts, then mouths kisses down the ladder of her ribcage to the angle of her hip. 

"Please," Morgana says again. Her body yearns toward Gwen and she tries so hard, as hard as she can, to save up a lifetime of kisses and smiles, the brush of Gwen's hair against her skin and the unfurling of Gwen's fingers inside her body, the scent of sex and sweat and perfume on her sheets and the sound of her own voice saying Gwen's name.

Gwen's hands smooth over Morgana's stomach and thighs and she dips her head down to nuzzle more kisses over Morgana's mound and then between her thighs, finally licking inside her.

This moment, Morgana thinks when her climax comes, this moment is the one she'll really remember happened on the twenty-second of April 2011 at 5:02 p.m.

*

"What's wrong?" Still muzzy with sleep, Gwen puts an arm around Morgana to hold her close after she comes awake with a cry. 

"I love you. I'll find you again, I promise." Morgana kisses Gwen's eyelids and the bridge of her nose; she presses their mouths together before Gwen can reply. "I'll find you. I love you," she repeats as clock in her bedroom finally begins to tick toward 5:03 p.m. and the moment dissolves around them.

* * *

**47**  
Crossover: Being Human  
 **Finding Home**

The next time Merlin was reborn, there was no one to teach him his magic. The world was a magicless, dead thing, and there was no one he could even convince of his own abilities, pitiful as it might be in this new technological age. Those he did tell called him crazy and told others to avoid him, and so he learned to keep his magic hidden, keep it close and safe where no one would ever learn of it.

***

He met Annie outside her home in Totterdown. She was standing there, grey sweater wrapped around her tightly in an effort to protect herself from the chilly air. He waved politely when he saw her, and she stared at him, shock flashing across her face.

“You can see me?” she asked.

He frowned. “Can’t everyone?”

She shook her head. “Most people can’t.”

He thought that was perfectly sad, but he understood. Most people didn’t look at him either.

***

He met George and Mitchell a week later, when Annie invited him over for tea. She didn’t have any herself, and he didn’t press the matter.

He could tell there was something about the three of them. His magic yearned for whatever they were, and he found himself making excuses not to leave.

***

He cried when George asked him to move in. He couldn’t remember being so happy. Or feeling like he belonged.

***

When he received news of his mother’s death, his grief was overwhelming. His magic responded by calling down a thunderstorm that lasted for three days and flooded half of Bristol. Three people died.

“I’m a monster,” he said, panicking, trying to keep his magic suppressed so it wouldn’t happen again. “I’m a murderer.”

Mitchell laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, you’re not a murderer. And I would know.”

And so he did. Merlin sat, hours later, understanding why his magic had reached for these three, creatures of magic themselves. And even knowing Mitchell’s past, he couldn’t stop himself from embracing him tightly, whispering grateful thank yous into his ear.

“Think nothing of it, my friend,” Mitchell said, holding him just as tight.

***

“Do you ever feel like you’re looking for something? But you don’t know what it is,” Merlin asked.

Annie shrugged. “Why I died, yeah. But I guess I know that.”

“I feel like…there’s some part of me I still need to find.”

Annie looked at him. “Maybe you should start searching.”

***

He met Arthur two years later, when Arthur ran into him at a coffee shop, knocking him down and spilling coffee everywhere.

Images flashed through his mind, and he expected Arthur to call him an idiot. Instead, he bent over with a pile of napkins in one hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“You’ve changed.”

Arthur looked at him, puzzled. “Have we met?”

“I think so. A very long time ago.”

***

Arthur and Merlin fell into bed together almost two weeks later. Amidst frantic, wet kisses, hushed murmurings, moans, and the feeling of being stretched too much around Arthur’s perfect cock, Merlin remembered everything – all the lifetimes, some alone, some with Arthur. He held on to Arthur’s shoulders as his climax hit him, and when he came down, stared into Arthur’s eyes, he knew Arthur remembered too.

***

“I like your friends,” Arthur said one day, when they were watching the telly while George and Mitchell were at work. Annie was in another room, allowing them privacy. 

“You should move in,” Merlin said, then froze. He hadn’t meant to say it, because it was early and even though he remembered all the previous Merlins, he couldn’t forget this Merlin, who had always been shunned and mocked.

Arthur looked at him and, just when Merlin was about to apologize, said, “I’d really liked that.”

It was Merlin’s new happiest day ever.

* * *

**48**  
 _Of all the gin-joints in all the world:_ A fusion with the Maltese Falcon

She’s the kind of girl that doesn’t stroll through Morgause’s door every day. Legs up to her chin and the most perfect thighs on the planet to match the perfect little bow of her full mouth. The kind of lady who drove men wild.

“Can I help you ma’am?” She let the title snap from her tongue like tiny bones. It’s been a slow week in the office and she had her feet up on the desk toes tapping against the air. 

“I hope so.” She replied simply and her painted lips pouted slightly. “I need information on the whereabouts of a child. I don’t know his name but he’s about 9 and I’m willing to pay whatever you’re asking.”

“Who’s got him? And why don’t you?” Salient questions, implicative answers. 

“Uther Pendragon.” 

Morgause laughed, it rippled from her throat like throwing knives-- sharp and sarcastic. “I don’t dabble in the mob, not even for a dame as pretty as you.” 

“Then you’re not a very good Dick are you?” She arched a challenging eyebrow, Morgause smirked. 

“What’s in it for me Sweet-Cheeks? Your money isn’t good enough to take on Pendragon.” If she was honest, and she never was as a principle, everything she’d done was just the lead up to taking Pendragon down. **He would ruin no more lives**. Start small, a child here, ratted out to the pigs there. Watch the empire crumble from between his greedy hands. 

“What do you want?” 

“Suck me off.” Morgause purred. _Lady_ let her lips part for a moment all pretty and painted the colour of crushed satin. “You want your boy back—make me come.” She didn’t look too surprised, but a dame as pretty as that had to be used to this kind of thing.

 _Lady_ rose, she was graceful like a dancer and just as tall, hair like raven feathers spilling down the back of her cream-coloured blouse. The way she fell to her knees was even more lovely. 

With a little shimmy she slid her bracers off her shoulders, she preferred trousers and flat shoes to the delicate lace and pearls of most gals. “Tell me your name?” Morgause traced her bottom lip with her thumb smearing the pencil-perfect line of it. “Or shall I tell you what it is?” It was a little more complicated to pull her trousers down, but she let them dangle from one foot. “Morgana Le Fey.” 

Her eyes went wide, cheeks flushing with the truth of it. “No.” 

“I’d recognize that face anywhere.” Morgause purred, she tangled her fingers in the silkiness of her hair tugging her mouth towards where she was already getting wet. “I’m curious to know what you’ve got against Daddy, girl.”Morgana would perform sometimes in Uther’s clubs, voice like an angel they said. 

Morgana let out a muffled moan when Morgause shoved her face first between her legs with both hands in her hair. She was getting lipstick all over her clean panties. Morgana’s mouth was so hot, she could feel the heat of it spreading down her thighs. 

“That’s a girl.”Morgause praised, twirling some of the thick curls between her fingers. 

Morgana had a wicked little mouth and she used it like she knew how. You didn’t get that kind of skill from singing. “You’re so good at this. Pay this way a lot?” Morgana glared up at here, sliding the elastic aside so she could slip one long finger up inside. Morgause rolled her spine against the chair, fucking herself down on Morgana’s fingers with each lazy shift of her hips. 

“Make me come, it’s part of the deal.” Morgana slid a second finger inside her and sucked hard on her clit.

Morgause came with a breathy sound, biting back a curse as Morgana kept flicking her tongue against her clit drawing it out until she was just toeing the line between pleasure and way too much. 

“Good enough?” There was a clear challenge in Morgana’s eyes as she looked up at her, mouth completely wrecked. 

“Perfect.” 

Morgana came back from the bathroom clattering on her heels hips swaying provocatively. Lipstick all fixed and perfectly in line again, it was a bit of a shame. Morgause had also cleaned up a little all tucked away back inside her trousers feet on the desk again. 

“So, will you take the case?” 

“Of course.” Pendragon had it coming and this was a good enough place to start.

* * *

**49**  
Fusion - Star Wars

Calibrations

“Entering the Yavin system. Standby for system check.” Hitting another button, test lists cascaded over the holodeck. “Confirmation noted.” He rubbed a worn hand over his face and shook his head, looking out the viewports at the stars, still, spinning slowly in the murk. Yavin I loomed to the right of the ship but Arthur flipped the stabilizers and felt _Excalibur_ shudder with the strain.

He watched the consoles a few seconds before deciding he’d deal with any problems later. Now a trip to the refresher sounded nice, extremely nice. Standing, he rolled his neck, reaching to rub at the crick there as he made his way through the small freighter turned bounty hunter ship. He’d have to deal with the calibration of the cargo hold and the pressurizers soon.

He pushed the thoughts of the damage to the back of his mind as the door to the fresher whizzed open. And he stood gaping a moment. Not only was it occupied, and not locked obviously, but it held his very naked, very frustrated partner. Who happened to be fighting with the fresher’s settings while trying to utilize his broken hand to hide his hard cock from Arthur. Or perhaps his hand had been there for another reason in the first place.

It must have been the latter as startled blue eyes met his and Merlin’s hand, looking less puffy and more like a hand now, whipped away only to go back and away again. The reaction managed to startle a laugh from Arthur, who was still standing in the door like an idiot. Part of him said he should forget the fresher and go to bed because his brain really needed the break, while another told him to just jump the scrawny Jedi while he was defenseless. Not that he was much of a threat anyway, being more adept with the Force than with a lightsaber. And banned from using the hokey stuff on his ship most of the time.

Of course he listened to the jump command, and found himself in the tiny fresher with Merlin before he realized what he’d done. Until Merlin turned those eyes on him again and he realized he really needed to blame it all on being up for three days trying to repair the ship between jumps.

“Tests all done then?”

He jerked back to the present and could only stare before a (slightly insane) smile started across his face. “Running. Except one I forgot about.”

“Shouldn’t you go do-oooo-!” Merlin stared open-mouthed as Arthur’s blaster-callused fingers wrapped around him and stroked. “Wh-what are-?”

“Do you know how distracting it is when you talk while I’m doing calibrations?” Merlin stuttered but Arthur ignored him in favor of stripping the velvet flesh in his hand. “I trust there have been no complications as this is its first servicing.” What the hell was he going on about? Merlin was going to tease the hell out of him after everything.

He brought his eyes up from where they’d been staring at the command panel behind Merlin in time to see the man swallow and lean slowly into his hand. “N-no. No problems. Everything wor…working normally. But – but there have been hand…handler errors recently.”

“Oh, tell me about it.”

“Er, just…just incompetence.”

“Hm…” This game was dangerous, but he couldn’t pull himself away. “Perhaps I should make sure it’s operator error. You never know with these things.” Eyes locked on Merlin’s, he slid to his knees and brought Merlin’s heavy cock to his mouth. He couldn’t pretend he hadn’t been centered on Merlin, especially recently. He’d helped him regain his strength those first couple days and hovered, just a bit. That whole time he’d acknowledged Merlin was something special and something he wanted his hands on. Literally.

And now, it seemed he might have found his ultimate bounty. As soon as he tested it out, he’d cash it in.

* * *

**50**  
 **Fusion: Magic Mike**

Percy only vaguely recalled how they’d gotten from Xquisite to an apartment on the other side of Tampa. The chick he’d gone home with—a hot blonde named . . . Mithy? Mathian?—was sucking him like a lolly while on the other side of the couch, the Kid was getting his dick inhaled by a cute brunette. The girls had been down to the club for a night out and stayed after closing to hit them up at the bar. They’d all gotten drunk, the girls feeling up all the places they weren’t allowed to touch during the show, not that Merlin and Percy were complaining. 

Jesus, Merlin was having a great time, eyes honed on the place his cock was disappearing. The Kid had pouty lips that the ladies loved. It was quite a sight, but Percy lost focus when the blonde kneeling between his legs did a little swirl right over his dickhead with her tongue. He let out a soft gasp and fed his cock back into her mouth with a steady hand, thrusting up a little to get it further inside. It was impressive, how much she could take; he was a hellavua lot more than a mouthful. Mithy-whoever was getting off with one hand down her panties. 

“Shit, yeah,” Merlin said, his voice hoarse. When Percy glanced up, the Kid was looking right down at where the blonde was working him over. He must have noticed Percy’s eyes on him, cuz he looked up. It felt weird but kind of good, and Percy was just drunk enough not to break the stare. He smirked instead. 

Merlin used his hands to guide the brunette’s head as she bobbed up and down, his gaze darting back and forth between her and Percy. Occasionally Percy caught a glimpse of Merlin’s shaft—kid’s pants were loaded, which was one of the reasons why Gwaine’d hired him on in the first place, cuz he couldn’t dance for shit. Chicks dug the grungy, cheeky-shy vibe he gave off, and they loved his package most of all. Percy’d seen it before, but never like this. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on.

Just then the blonde looked up, caught him staring over at his bud. She giggled. 

“So,” she said, “you and your friend ever get up to anything naughty? You know, back stage?” 

Percy stroked her hair, trying to think of a way to answer. He’d had a few experiences with guys, but never at work, and never with Merlin. The Kid was like his brother or something, but he couldn’t deny the thought of fucking around with Merlin made Percy’s cock twitch, wanting more attention than it was getting. 

“Nah,” he said. 

“Do you want to?” she asked, eyes bright. “It would be hot.” 

Merlin and the brunette were looking over. The Kid had a horny, heavy-lidded stare. He licked his lips and Percy shrugged.

“Maybe,” he told her. Then to Merlin, “You up for it, Kid?”  
Instead of answering, Merlin moved over, shuffling awkwardly with his hard cock out and his pants around his knees. He flopped down close enough for Percy to feel his body heat, and then pressed up against him, the hair of their thighs rasping together. 

“You’ve got a huge dick, dude,” he told Percy. Then he laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” Percy asked. The two girls were sitting closer together now, watching.

“Nothing. I’ve just never touched another guy’s junk.”

“Don’t have to,” Percy said, though he was already thinking of the things he wanted to do.

He didn’t know if it was the beer talking, but Merlin said, “I want to. You’re sexy as hell when you dance. I’ve . . . thought about it.”

The revelation made Percy bite his lip and gaze down at Merlin’s cock protruding from a thick nest of pubes. He could smell the musk and sweat of it. 

“Oh my God,” murmured one of the girls when Merlin wrapped his hand around Percy’s shaft. The touch wasn’t at all hesitant, and Percy watched as Merlin gave his cock a pump. His balls drew up tight with a heavy load. 

The blonde girl turned her head and kissed the brunette and that was that—the girls started going at it, giving them a show. 

“Wanna . . .” Merlin said into Percy’s neck, hand working faster. “Wanna see this big cock come.”

 _Jesus, what a dirty mouth,_ Percy thought as he started to spurt.

* * *

**51**  
Fusion: Inuyasha 

There was really nothing like medieval Britain to make him appreciate all the modern trappings of the twenty-first century. Flush toilets, for one. Electricity. Mobile phone reception – especially mobile phone reception. It felt odd not to be constantly checking his phone for Twitter or Facebook updates when he was _here_. 

“Remind me once again why we’re looking for pieces of this Holy Grail thing?” Arthur asked, sighing.

“You broke it, remember?” Merlin replied. He sounded distinctly unconcerned as he poked about their stew for that night’s dinner. Rabbit. Again, though it did smell quite delicious. 

That was for him. Later, Merlin would take his own dinner from… well, him. It made his face heat just to think about it.

~*~

The first time they met, Merlin had been trapped in a tree. In the process of running for his life from an angry gryphon, Arthur had pulled the sword embedded in the middle of the trunk free, awoken him, and demanded that he save him from being eaten. It had been a rather inauspicious start.

The aftermath had _not_ been pretty. Merlin called him all sorts of names, and then proceeded to sleep with half the village boys that night.

~*~

It’s been three months since he fell through the old well that brought him into the Dark Ages. He had been terrified at first, naturally, but after he realized this was _almost_ like being in Doctor Who, it became a lot less scary and more exciting.

Until he broke some old cup, that is. Now, he’s schooling by day and using his nights and weekends to look for the pieces, all to great peril to his life. For the Greater Good. There were no perks in this timey-wimey business.

~*~

“Arthur,” Merlin breathed into his ear, sending shivers up his spine, “I need to eat.”

He reached into his bag for a convenient, travel-sized tube of lube. Merlin took it from him, their fingers brushing, causing a jolt to go through Arthur. It always happened like this – Merlin’s demonic magnetism making Arthur burn for it, his cock growing heavy quickly even for a teenager, wanting to touch and be touched, all at once.

Merlin prepared himself with lubed fingers while Arthur lay on the bedroll watching, a hand already pulling languidly at his cock. Not for the first time he thought that Merlin looked like one of the fey, the fire lighting up his pale skin and turning his eyes a deep gold. _Sinful_ , he thought somewhat hysterically as he ran a hand over his own chest, pinching at a nipple.

“I’m ready,” Merlin said as he climbed onto him and sank down on his cock. 

The warmth and snugness was always incredible. Arthur marveled at how he managed to remain this tight. Sometimes they switched roles, but he _had_ to bottom a few times every week at least, what more a cambion who had been alive for centuries. 

His inane thoughts came to a screeching halt as Merlin started to _move_ , sliding up and down and moaning like a regular porn star.

~*~

So, alright, maybe there was one perk. Merlin the Cambion was very good at sex. But it was his profession – lifestyle – thing, that was a given. Still, it was something he couldn’t complain about.

* * *

 **52**  
Fusion with Yaoi anime Ai No Kusabi ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ai_no_Kusabi)

Title: That moment 1/2

 _His gang…All of them…Fucking Arthur…_ Merlin punched the wall and watched as the cascading water washed away the blood. _He should have known… That job reeked of foul play._ Merlin left the shower and entered the main room, toweling his hair absentmindedly. "Hello Merlin." Merlin froze as he heard that voice, a voice he hoped never to hear again. "What are you doing here Arthur?" He snarled; turning around and glaring at the knight. "Merlin…" Arthur's voice was smooth and silky as always and Merlin took a step back, and another as Arthur moved forward, removing his upper coat. His knees bumped into his bed and he fell backward. "I hope you haven't mistaken me," Arthur's lips curled in a satisfied smirk. "I said you will get _one_ year of freedom, but you have always been and will always be _my_ sorcerer." Merlin's eyes widened as Arthur removed his gloves and revealed the ring. "What have you got to fear?" Arthur cooed as he pulled out the cock ring, his left hand gripping Merlin's hair and his right pushing the robe off Merlin's shoulders. "You are mine." He whispered as he leaned down and tugged at Merlin's limp cock, rubbing it slowly and coaxing it to life. Merlin refused to utter a sound as he bitten into his lower lip, drawing blood. Leaning closer Arthur licked the blood slowly off his jaw, trailing the sharp bones with his tongue and gripping Merlin's hair tighter. "Say it," He muttered as Merlin's finger's gripped his shoulder in a white knuckled grip. "Well?" "Fine," Merlin gasped. "Do it." Arthur's dark chuckle was the last thing Merlin heard before his mind was overcome with ecstasy. 

&&&

"Merlin?" Will's voice was soft. "It's not your fault." Will said and Merlin shook his head. _"I can't see," Arthur's dark whisper caressed Merlin's skin and he bit his lip to stop the moans that tried to escape. "Spread your legs my little sorcerer and let me see." Merlin did as he was told, sending a glare at the Blondie knight sitting before him, drinking casually even as his eyes burned with heat._ "It really is." He said and left the house. 

&&&

"Seeing you here," Arthur's voice carried on the wind. "It's like you never left." "Don't give me that shit," Merlin glared at him. "I never had a chance." Arthur's hand gripped his forearm tightly and he lifted defiant eyes to stare at the knight. "That's right, no matter what they say or who you are thinking about, as long as you have the ring you are mine." Merlin's response was swallowed by Arthur's lips, sudden, demanding and oh so familiar. _Merlin trashed against the bindings as Arthur's maddening tongue pressed against his slit again and again, sending hot waves of pleasure through him. "Arthur…!" Merlin moaned and lifted his hips up, pushing further into Arthur's wet, tight heat, swallowing hard when knowing; sharp blue eyes glanced up at him. Another moan and Arthur was pulling away, twisting the ring on his finger and tearing a tormented scream from Merlin as his cock ring tightened. In a swift move Arthur entered his already abused hole and started fucking him in deep, lingering thrusts that tore more screams and moans from his lips. With deadly precision Arthur hit his sweet spot every time, his eyes dark and possessive as he stared at Merlin's. Letting out another scream Merlin was turned on his stomach and Arthur slide right back, gripping Merlin's hair and lifting his head to his, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. "Let me go…" Merlin sobbed; his mind numb from pleasure. "Not yet," Arthur mumbled against his skin. "It's not enough, never enough."_

&&&

"If I told you I loved Merlin, would you laugh, Leon?" Startled green eyes met confident blue ones.

&&&

"I'm Arthur's sorcerer." Merlin said quietly. Will's bruised face contorted in shock. "What?" "For the last three years I've been his sorcerer," Merlin sighed. " I thought he sat me free but…" _"One year…I'll be waiting for that moment. The moment that you will truly become mine…"_

&&&

Explosions tore the walls around him and Arthur hoped that Merlin made it alive out of the death trap that Will sat. A figure appeared through the smoke and Arthur's eyes widened. "Merlin…Why?" "Thought you might be bored on your own." Merlin shrugged and sat down near Arthur. Wrapping his hand around Merlin Arthur pulled him closer. "Mine." "Yours."

* * *

**53**  
 **Fusion:** Community. More specifically S03E04 - Remedial Chaos Theory

“Starting on my left with one. Your number comes up: you go get the pizza.” Arthur rubs the die between his fingers. 

The group seated around the table groans and Merlin smirks. “Just so you know; you’re now creating six different timelines with six different consequences following the number you roll.”

“Of course I am, Merlin,” Arthur says flatly and throws the die. 

*  
 **one**  
Gwen relents without a fuss. The cheering stops when the door falls closed and it’s quiet for a moment as Merlin catches Arthur’s eyes over the table and Arthur winks, his smile growing. 

“If you two have sex on the table I’m going to hurl,” Gwaine says loudly and laughter erupts. 

Arthur looks away with flushed cheeks and Merlin’s eyes drop to the table.

**  
 **two**  
The last they saw of Gwaine was his middle finger as he disappeared out the door and he’d left the group chatting quietly. Everyone were lost in conversation and Merlin found himself able to slink off into the bathroom, his head too full of the wank fantasy he’d had about Arthur earlier to even function properly in conversation. 

He almost thinks he’s still fantasising when Arthur slips inside, his eyes finding Merlin quickly as he moves forwards, taking Merlin’s face into his hands and pressing their lips together. It’s _amazing_ until Morgana throws the door open with a bang and they jump apart. 

***  
 **three**  
Merlin looks at them across the room, his body feeling heavy and almost foreign. Gwen leans into Arthur and laughs as he whispers something into her ear. The smile on Arthur’s face is blinding and Merlin wants it for himself. He wants to bottle it up and keep it forever. And yet, the smile is for Gwen and all Merlin wants is for Lance to return with the pizza. 

****  
 **four**  
“And I didn’t mean to make her angry at me, you know?” Elena says, flailing her hands a little. “I was just trying to be honest, but I think she hates me now. Do you think she does?”

Merlin stares longingly over at Arthur, wishing he’d been quick enough to get his attention when Morgana had left the seat open when she went down to get the pizza. Instead Elena had nabbed it and is currently outlining a very long misunderstanding with Morgana. 

“It’ll be fine,” Merlin says, his eyes once again straying to Arthur.

******  
 **five**  
Merlin had been as quick as he could, running down the stairs and down to the main entrance to pay the pizza guy. He made a joke about different timelines created by Arthur’s die-rolling and the pizza guy had looked at him with wide eyes. 

“ _Dude_! There are different timelines?!”

When Merlin comes back they descend on him like a pack of hyenas. 

“Excellent pizza-getting skills,” Arthur says close to his ear and Merlin feels like Arthur just told him he’d hung the moon.

*******  
 **six**  
Elena had asked him to get her another beer before she ran off downstairs and Merlin heads into the kitchen, moving slightly to the beat of the music Elena had put on before she left (“Roxanne!”). When he comes back into the room everyone’s dancing, throwing their arms up and laughing at each other. 

Merlin sidles up to Arthur and beams, jumping up and down as they sing along (“You don’t have to put on the red light!”). They smile widely, moving closer until Elena pushes in between them with the pizzas and laughs, swaying her hips.

-  
 **seven**  
“Wanker!” The group had chorused as they realised Arthur had devised a system where he never had to get the pizza since he’s person number seven. 

He’d just laughed at them, saluting mockingly when they forced him to go instead of throwing the die. Merlin figured he needed to make sure Arthur didn’t mess up the food. 

“What about the pizzas?” Merlin says now, pressed against the wall in the hallway where he’d caught up with Arthur. 

“You really want to talk about this now?” Arthur asks, looking up at Merlin, his hand slowing slightly on Merlin’s cock. 

“Hngh, _no_.”

Arthur smirks and takes Merlin into his mouth, closing his lips tight around him until Merlin’s head falls back against the wall. His heartbeat thunders in his ears when Arthur seems to try to suck his brains out through his cock. 

“Fu-uck, _Arthur_ ,” he says to the beat of _Roxanne_ coming from the flat down the hall. 

He really needs this to be the real timeline.

* * *

**54**  
 **Fusion:** Swingers, more specifically inspired by this scene.

Big Fucking Wildren  
“We’re out of mead, my friend,” Leon said, leaning toward Percival. “Your turn.”

But as Leon spoke the words, Arthur watched Percival and Gwaine nod at each other and get up from the table. They had their eyes set on a couple of barmaids across the room. “Maybe the king should get this round,” Gwaine said and didn’t leave time for an answer before pulling Percival with him.

Arthur rolled his eyes - he was doing a lot of that tonight - and got up. Leon tried to stop him with a slurred, “But sire,” but Arthur brushed him off. It was only right; they’d been trying all night to make him feel better. The least he could do was buy them some mead.

At the bar, Arthur clunked down their pitcher, but the barkeep didn’t look too motivated to fill it. Even for the king. Arthur sighed and sat down at the bar. He’d just wait.

“Rough night, your highness?” Merlin’s voice broke into his sullenness and he slid into the seat beside him.

Arthur wanted to blurt out all his insecurities and pain at Merlin (again), but stopped himself. There was something about Merlin just then - the way he looked, his body language - that told Arthur now would be a good time to be less unicorns and rainbows and more wildren.

( _”You’re a big fucking wildren, Arthur,” Gwaine said._

_“Yeah, with big fucking teeth,” Percival added._

_“And you’re trying to go after that little bitty jackrabbit, but you don’t know how.”_

_“With your big fucking teeth.”_

_“Yeah, and you sorta bat that jackrabbit around because you’re so awkward.”_

_“With all your talk about unicorns and rainbows.”_

_“Friendship tip, mate.”_

_“But you wanna love the jackrabbit.”_

_“You wanna get_ busy _with the jackrabbit.”_

_“So go be that wildren, Arthur.”_

_“Be the fucking wildren.”_

_“And get the fucking jackrabbit.”_

_“Get busy with the jackrabbit.”_

_“You’re so fucking gold, you don’t even know it.”_ )

Arthur hadn’t really understood that conversation until now. “It’s looking up,” Arthur responded, giving Merlin a little smile. Arthur was pleased to see Merlin smile back.

*****  
Back in his chambers, Arthur had his manservant pushed up against the door, thigh pressed between his leg and mouth attached to his exposed neck. It was such a long, beautiful fucking neck. How had Arthur not noticed before?

Merlin pulled on the tips of Arthur’s hair and a groan broke through their harsh breathing. Arthur wasn’t sure which of them made it, but he wasn’t embarrassed to think that it was him. He had wanted this - wanted _Merlin_ \- for longer than he cared to admit. Maybe he’d wanted him all along. How had he not noticed before?

“Fuck, Arthur,” Merlin breathed, his head thunking against the door. “Fuck you, you need to fuck me. Now.”

Arthur wasn’t going to argue with that logic - even if it wasn’t logic of any kind - and grabbed Merlin’s legs, hoisting them up around his waist. Their cocks rubbed together, catching on their breeches, the pleasure making Arthur bite down on Merlin’s shoulder.

“Fuck this,” he said and dropped Merlin’s legs. He grabbed the laces of Merlin’s breeches and pulled, ripping them apart and pushing them down his legs. He flipped Merlin around, pressing his front into the door with his body and said into his ear, “Want you. Want your arse. Gonna fuck you so good.”

Merlin moaned into the wood and breathed, “Yes.” Arthur undid his breeches quickly, and without readying Merlin, he shoved his cock into his arse in one thrust. However, when he expected dry heat, he found a wet, tight hole welcoming him. He nearly came then.

“Wanted you for so long,” Merlin said, a smirk on his face. Arthur grinned and fucked him senseless against the door.

*****  
Outside, Leon, Gwaine and Percival listened to the moans and groans coming from Arthur’s chambers. When a loud shout of, “Fuck, Arthur. Fuck me with your giant fucking cock!” rang out, the knights turned to each other and high-fived.

“So fucking gold,” Gwaine said and palmed his cock. “Let’s go find some beautiful maidens.”

* * *

 **55**  
 **Crossover:** Stargate: Atlantis

The Stargate's rings had locked on the last symbol when all the power in Albion went out.

" _Merlin!_ " The culprit ran down the stairs from the operations floor, his skinny arse disappearing down the corridor. Arthur hiked his semiautomatic a little higher and angrily tapped his comm unit. " _Mer_ lin. What did you do now?"

"It's the thing again!" Merlin answered breathlessly.

Arthur tried not to smirk -- he'd been waiting for this to happen for _weeks_. He dismissed his team. "At ease. I'll be back in ten."

Arthur found Merlin in the generator room, which was where Arthur should have looked first, because that was the room that generated the power that _they currently didn't have_.  
In the fluorescent-blue glow of several strategically-placed torches, Merlin was untangling neon tubes and throwing a coil of cable over his shoulder.

"Please tell me you did this on purpose," Arthur said. He marched into the room and slid a hand up Merlin's shirt. 

"Woah! Quit it! I _told_ you -- I'm working on it!"

"On what, avoiding me?"

"The power problem."

"You said _again_. Is it the same problem as last time?"

"Um... maybe?" 

Arthur grinned. Merlin had absolutely no excuse now. Arthur marched forward; Merlin retreated, and in four steps, Arthur had Merlin between the ZPMs, flat on his back. "And we don't have any power, because...?"

"We... ran out?" Merlin suggested hopefully. He tried to get up, but he was trapped, exactly where Arthur wanted him. Arthur stepped into the space made by Merlin's flailing legs and leaned down.

"You guessed it would last for a month," Arthur said. The blue light shadows and the black cable holding Merlin down were doing _things_ to him. Arthur licked his lips. 

"It's been a month already?" Merlin's thigh brushed Arthur's cock. Arthur moaned. "Um -- Arthur? Are you --"

"So fucking hard for you that I'm going mad?" Arthur ran his hand up Merlin's leg, kneading the lean muscle until he reached Merlin's groin and felt an erection as hard as his own had become. "You've been avoiding me ever since --"

"I've been trying to figure this out," Merlin protested, but his hips grinded under Arthur's palm. Arthur yanked at Merlin's trousers until they split open and stroked drops of pre-cum down Merlin's long cock. He collected a bead of it on his thumb and wiped it on a nearby ZPM. It glowed a feeble amber.

Who would have thought that their come possessed the necessary material to power the ZPMs? Not Arthur, that's for sure. They only found out by accident after Arthur's come had dripped from Merlin's chin and onto the module after that one, hasty hand job weeks ago. 

"No one else has the gene for this! I checked every--" Merlin gasped. Arthur quickly put his gun aside, shrugged out of his vest, unbuckled his belt, and shimmied his trousers down. "--one. I checked everyone!"

Arthur straddled Merlin's hips. The shock of aligning their cocks together robbed him of the capacity for speech, and he had to pause until he did.

"I thought you were the genius, Merlin. It's an easy solution. We could've just fucked every day like I wanted --" Arthur sucked at Merlin's lower lip while half-rutting against, half-stroking the two of them together. Merlin moaned, his head falling back. 

The pre-come slicked the way, though Arthur knew he shouldn't waste it. He watched their cocks in the dim light, perfectly aligned, angry, red, hard. Arthur stroked them this time, since Merlin's hands were otherwise occupied.

"Build up a supply --" Arthur bit out. He smothered Merlin's argument to the contrary -- there was _always_ an argument to the contrary -- with a rough kiss. "We'd have perpetual power. Never have to worry --"

He twisted his wrist. He tightened his grip. His touch was feather-light. He sped up.

Merlin -- the little git -- climaxed first in a gorgeous arch of spine, his bare belly covered with ropes of their come. They panted for breath while Arthur smeared it on the ZPMs. One by one, they lit up, the power hummed, and the lights came on in Albion.

"There wasn't anything about this in the Archives," Merlin said glumly, propped up on his elbows while Arthur dressed and donned his equipment. "And it's not scientific."

"Well, if it works..." Arthur leaned in for a quick kiss. "Why fix it? I'll see you when I get back."

* * *

**56**  
 **fusion - the big bang theory**

Merlin was mostly happy with his existence as a socially-awkward scientist who lived with his genius best friend and spent most Friday nights arguing over whether to watch Battlestar Galactica or Stargate: Atlantis. He didn’t even mind Edwin and Gilli being over constantly, or the fact that he didn’t have all that much sex (well, he didn’t mind _much_.)

And then Arthur Pendragon moved in across the hall.

~*~

He was _gorgeous_ , blonde and toned with stupidly blue eyes. So naturally the first thing that Merlin said when he bumped into him on the landing the day after he moved in was,

“Did you know that Sergei Avdeyev is a fraction of a second younger than he should be because of the 747 days he spent in space?”

Blondie blinked at him.“Um, who?” he asked.

“Sergei Avdeyev. He was a Russian cosmonaut.”

“Okay,” he said, drawing out the last syllable. 

“I’m Merlin, I live across the hall,” Merlin offered after a moment of awkward silence. And then Blondie grinned, a huge, sunny smile that made Merlin’s heart thump.

“Arthur Pendragon. I’m an actor,” he said, then his smile dimmed slightly. “Well, trying to be.”

Arthur offered his hand, and it was warm, firm and attached to the most beautiful bicep Merlin had ever seen.

Oh God.

~*~

Arthur was also a prat.

"So you're pretty smart."

"I have a PhD in particle physics that I earned at 21."

"That's a yes?"

" _Yes_."

"No need to be snippy about it."

“I’m not being - ”

“Are you smarter than Will?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Wha- well, no, but he’s - ”

Arthur started laughing and Merlin couldn’t decide if he wanted to smack him over the head or kiss him on that gorgeous, grinning mouth.

A bit both, really.

~*~

They were friends, somehow, despite having almost nothing in common. 

Arthur could be found on Merlin’s sofa most Saturday nights, when he wasn’t off shagging totally unsuitable men (seriously, Gwaine had _stolen his television_ ). He hung out with him (and Will, Edwin and Gilli, but Merlin liked to think it was mostly him), ate leftover Thai and bickered over what to watch.

And one night, drunk on too much Tequila and a bad breakup, Arthur leaned over and kissed him sloppily before falling asleep on his shoulder, and Merlin decided this was worth holding out hope for.

~*~

Arthur fucked like a _champ_.

“Harder, nguh, _harder_ ,” Merlin moaned, knees planted in the mattress, pushing back against Arthur’s cock.

“Stop that,” Arthur growled, gripping his hips tightly and holding them still. When Merlin obeyed, he slid his hands down to curl around the top of Merlin’s thighs. He started to move again, fucking slow and steady. He wouldn’t speed up, no matter how much Merlin begged, his stamina unbelievable.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , Arthur,” he gritted out, reaching down to wrap a hand around his cock. Arthur batted his hand away.

“Jesus, Merlin, I’ve never heard you swear before,” Arthur said, panting.

“Maybe if you fucking moved a bit faster, I’d - ”

Arthur pulled out and next thing, Merlin was flat on his back, Arthur pushing his thighs up, dick nudging at Merlin’s hole. He spared Merlin a smirk before he drove into him, and Merlin cried out, hands reaching out for Arthur’s shoulders. He pulled him down and kissed him, mouth clumsy, fingers digging into Arthur’s back.

“Come on, Merlin, wanna see you come,” Arthur groaned, his hips moving frantically, hand slipping between their bodies to wrap around Merlin’s cock.

It only took a few pulls for Merlin to come, slick between their bellies. Arthur kept fucking him, right through it, until Merlin was certain he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week, and then he came, _finally_ , and collapsed right on top of Merlin.

“You’re heavy,” Merlin grumbled, futilely attempting to move Arthur off him.

Arthur grunted, but rolled over, pulling out and stripping the condom off. He disposed of it and snuggled back into Merlin’s side. Actually _snuggled_.

Merlin smiled, kissed him, and fell asleep.

~*~

“You have Star Wars sheets.”

“Yes, well - ”

“ _Star Wars sheets_ and you’re over the age of twelve.”

“Star Wars was a brilliant piece of filmmaking, okay? George Lucas - ”

“Oh my god, I’m dating a total nerd.”

“How is this news to you, Arthur, you - wait, dating?”

“Yes, you dolt, that’s what it is when two people hang out all the time and also have sex.”

“Oh.”

“Alright?”

“Alright.”

* * *

**57**  
Fusion: Sailor Moon

Merlin woke up when he felt something wet touch his cheek. He looked up and found his Prince's eyes staring back at him. Arthur's ridiculous spandex suit was replaced with one that was almost as fine as Merlin's own.

"Arthur, it's you," Merlin said as he reached out to cup Arthur's cheek. The world shattered around them and they were transported to memories of the past. 

+++

Merlin had been engaged to Arthur. Arthur was the great moon prince and they had faced such a terrible enemy. The Sailor Knights had fought alongside him to protect the Prince, but they were overpowered and ambushed. In a final desperate act, Arthur's parents and Nimueh had worked powerful magic to send their souls back in time and place them on the Earth to be raised as humans.

The final night Merlin had snuck into Arthur's room to steal a kiss; the lights from the battle outside had been enough to cast the room in a warm glow. Merlin had been robbed of that last kiss when Nimueh crashed into the room and shoved them apart. She'd stuck a pendant in Arthur's hand and Merlin screamed as Arthur vanished in front of his eyes.

"I'm saving you. You'll remember when you need to," Nimueh had said before she forced another pendant into Merlin's hand.

+++

Merlin gasped for breath when he came out of the memory. Arthur was staring down at him with a look of utter disbelief.

"Emrys," Arthur said, "You're. I- I'm."

Merlin forced himself up from Arthur's lap and kneeled in front of him. He cupped Arthur's chin and forced Arthur to meet his eyes before leaning in and kissing Arthur's rough lips. Arthur pushed back into the kiss and they fought for dominance. Their stubble burned over soft skin as they sank deeper into each other.

"Finally!" Gwaine, the Knight of Strength, yelled from the background and brought Merlin and Arthur back to reality.

"I knew I'd find you," Merlin said when he pulled away.

"I've been here all along, blockhead," Arthur replied and Merlin grinned back at him.

"Guys, we're still in the middle of a battle," Lancelot, the Knight of Loyalty, reminded them.

"Right. Okay," Arthur said as he shook his head, "Merlin, you're with me. Gwaine, Lance, and Percy, I want you to cover the exits. Elyan and Leon, you'll be our back up."

"Yes, my Prince," the Knights and Arthur replied.

+++

The battle had been won, but there were more battles to come in this war. More of their enemies would be arriving and if Merlin and Arthur ever wanted to see their kingdom come to fruition they'd all have to train and become more powerful. That could wait until tomorrow.

Tonight, Merlin wrapped his arms more firmly against Arthur's midriff as Arthur squirmed in his sleep. He smiled in content as Arthur rubbed his face into Merlin's chest.

"Stop thinking so loud," Arthur complained his voice husky from sleep as he refused to open his eyes.  
"I'm trying. Sorry," Merlin replied. He stroked Arthur's back soothingly.

"Ugh. I apparently need to tire you out some more." Arthur said and looked up to glare playfully at Merlin.

"Maybe," Merlin's reply was mumbled incoherently against Arthur's lips.

"We are always sleeping naked. Saves time," Arthur said, pulling away from the kiss and reaching over to the bedside table.

Merlin spread his legs as Arthur reached a hand between them and played with his balls. He pushed back against the finger that Arthur trailed down to his entrance.

"I'm still loose from earlier," Merlin said as he bucked against Arthur and was pleased to find Arthur already hard against his stomach.

"Right," Arthur replied and kissed Merlin again. Merlin soon felt Arthur's cock pushing inside. He was loose, but he wasn't as well prepared as the first time and there was a slight burn to it that reminded Merlin he was alive.

"We finally found each other," Merlin broke the kiss briefly to mumble. Then, they were lost to their pleasure. Merlin moaned and writhed while Arthur pushed in and out of him in a stuttered rhythm that wasn't quite enough for Merlin.

Merlin stuck a hand between them and fisted his cock as Arthur lost himself in the rhythm. Arthur finally collapsed on top of Merlin with a grunt and Merlin gave him a few seconds before he pushed Arthur off.

"I hope you aren't going to make a habit of that," Merlin said. Arthur laughed and climbed to his knees and wrapped his mouth around Merlin's cock.

"Nevermind," Merlin said when he found his orgasm.

* * *

**58**  
Fusion: Game of Thrones (show, not book)

Arthur hasn't been home in nine years, but he's sure that he'll be welcomed back to the Iron Islands like the prince he is, he prince he was before being taken away by Cenred, the prince he will be once more after Uther is made king again.

His ship docks and Arthur clutches the message from Cenred tightly in his hands. _This_ is why he is here. _This_ is what will restore his family to its rightful place on a throne.

Once he's on land, a pretty, strong girl approaches him and offers him a ride up to Camelot. She calls him "Lord Pendragon" and something flares in Arthur's stomach - a strange combination of nerves and excitement and lust and bravado.

The ride isn't long, but Arthur finds that he needs a bit more time to gather himself before facing his father for the first time in so long. He tells the girl to slow down and she does, a knowing smirk on her face.

"You should give me the reigns," he says to cover it up. "I'm a better rider than you."

It's not exactly true and she seems to know it.

"Been on horseback for the past nine years," he explains needlessly. She knows who he is and where he's been.

"Nine years and you still know your way around a ship? Have these hands ever touched a rope?" She lifts one of his hands off her hip and holds it, pretending to examine it.

"Don't you worry about my hands," Arthur says. He gropes her easily and she looks over her shoulder, smiling at him.

The breeze from the sea is cold and harsh on his face and his bare hands, but the girl's skin is hot beneath his touch. He undoes the laces on her shirt and dips his hand under the collar to get at her breasts. They are full and soft and her nipples are already hard and wanting.

She looks back at him again and they could easily kiss, but they don't.

The horse veers to the left and she turns back around. Arthur pulls one hand out of her shirt and slips it into her trousers instead. His fingers touch a bed of tight curls and he wants to see them. He wants to know if they are as jet-black as the long hair on her head, or if they are a lighter, more inviting shade of brown.

Her breath hitches in her throat as he slides his fingers lower to rub at her clit.

Arthur focuses on the girl and her writhing hips and her soft gasps and her still decent riding and steering skills. He ruts against her arse to take the edge off his arousal, but he doesn't want to come. He doesn't need to come and he's not even sure that he could come if he tried. He just needs to do this. He needs to touch someone else and anchor himself to reality with that familiar pleasure.

Arthur uses the rocky, unsteady rhythm of the ride to get the girl off and she comes with a startlingly high-pitched moan. She arches against him, rolling her hips into his hand.

"Do you need help, my lord?" she asks, her voice breathy and low as she reaches behind her back to grasp at his cock before she's even properly recovered from her climax.

"No," Arthur says simply. "We're nearly there."

\--

Uther does not welcome Arthur home with open arms or a smile or even a nod. He is harsh and ungrateful that Arthur is even still alive.

Arthur defends himself as best he can, sure that if he can just prove himself to be worthy then Uther will have no choice but to accept his return.

It takes some convincing, but eventually Uther takes the scroll that Arthur has brought from Cenred.

"I see," Uther says, clearly displeased by the message. "I destroy Cenred's enemies for him and he will make me king of the Iron Islands once again."

"I will lead the attack myself," Arthur says proudly, sure that this display of military prowess is what will win his father over.

"Oh, you will?" Uther says mockingly.

"I'm your son!" Arthur says sternly, restraining himself from shouting. "Your only living heir! Who else?"

The door creaks open behind them and the girl who had brought him here on horseback comes in, smiling confidently. Arthur watches, dumbfounded, as she approaches Uther.

"My dear," Uther says softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Arthur blinks in shock as it hits him. "Morgana?"

Morgana smirks, one thin eyebrow perched high on her brow. "So good to see you, _brother_."

* * *

**59**  
Fusion - Highlander: The Series

Gwaine is a Watcher, a member of a secret society who knows the truth about Immortals. His job is to observe and record but never interfere. 

It is a good thing Gwaine has never been one to strictly follow the rules. 

“Arthur,” he says, slapping down the dossier onto Arthur’s coffee table, “he doesn’t even know what he is.”

Arthur towels his hair. He is dripping with sweat from a training session, his favorite broadsword loose in his grip. He glances at the picture of the new immortal, frowning. 

“Not interested in taking on a student, Gwaine,” he says, placing his sword across the couch cushions then padding to the back of the dojo toward the shower. “Ask Leon,” he calls over his shoulder. 

Gwaine sighs. He has watched Arthur for a few years now, a mere fraction of Arthur’s lifetime, but he feels he knows Arthur fairly well. 

“Nim’s after him,” he adds, knowing full well Arthur and Nim have a century’s worth of history, none of it good. 

It stops Arthur in his tracks. 

“He has no family,” Gwaine continues. “He was riding his bike and was clipped by a car. He died, alone, in a ditch, and woke up hours later. Arthur, he doesn’t know anything about the Game.”

Gwaine sees the flicker of sympathy in Arthur’s eyes and knows Arthur is remembering his own first death on a medieval battlefield. 

“What’s his name,” Arthur asks, picking up the file. 

Gwaine smiles. “Merlin.”

-

Gwaine watches as Arthur strides into the coffeeshop where Merlin works. Merlin snaps his head up when Arthur enters, undoubtedly feeling the buzzing sensation that is the Immortal alert system. He is wary but Arthur flirts shamelessly. Merlin is quite adorable as he stammers and blushes. Arthur lures Merlin to his flat and Gwaine writes in the record the date/time/moment Arthur tells Merlin about Immortals, the Game, death via beheading and Holy Ground.

Merlin jumps to his feet. 

“She said the same thing!” he yells. “You are all nutters. Leave me alone!”

Merlin leaves. Arthur lets him. 

A few days later, Gwaine notes Merlin’s return. He looks exhausted, hollow-eyed, swaying on his feet. Arthur catches him before he falls. 

“Okay,” Merlin says. “What happens if I believe you?”

-

The first day of Merlin’s training is hilarious. Gwaine records that Merlin drops the katana Arthur gave him at least nineteen times.

-

Months pass. Merlin becomes better at fighting. He is still rough around the edges but he doesn’t drop his sword nearly as much. He might stand a chance if he is ever challenged. 

Arthur is proud, as he should be, but Gwaine notices something else there. Arthur’s touches linger. He smiles more, seems happier. 

-

Merlin’s first challenge comes in the spring. 

“You are not ready!” Arthur yells, pacing the dojo floor. “Valiant is a killer.”

“He challenged me! I can’t walk away. There can be only one.”

Arthur steps close, cups Merlin’s cheek. “I know. Be careful.”

Merlin smiles bravely. “I will.”

Arthur kisses him goodbye. 

-

Percival is assigned as Merlin’s Watcher. Gwaine sends him home, sparing him the possible sight of Merlin’s death. No one likes to see their guy lose.

-

The fight is brutal. Valiant is experienced, deadly. He clips Merlin’s leg early on and Merlin is hobbled. He falls and Gwaine bites back a sob as Valiant advances, but Merlin recovers, rolls, twists, takes Valiant by surprise and brings his katana down in a deadly arc. 

The Quickening lights up the sky.

Gwaine records Merlin’s first kill as Merlin manages to stagger home. 

-

Arthur is waiting for him. He attacks Merlin, kisses him hard, desperate, manhandles him to the bed, tears his clothes in his haste. 

Merlin is still thrumming with the power from the Quickening and he flips Arthur over, fucks into him with little preparation, his cock hard and thick. Arthur takes it, moans loud and wanton as Merlin’s hips snap in a frantic rhythm.

Gwaine palms himself through his jeans, watches as Merlin comes, head thrown back, spine arched, grip hard on Arthur’s hips as he fills him up. 

He collapses onto Arthur’s back, sated, exhausted. 

Arthur pushes him off, Merlin landing in the pillows. Arthur’s cock is still hard. He straddles Merlin’s chest, come sliding down the insides of his thighs as he jerks off. Merlin encourages him with filthy moans and endearments, his fingers buried in Arthur’s arse. 

Arthur comes with a grunt, paints Merlin’s face. 

Gwaine comes in his pants. 

He doesn’t record that part.

* * *

**60**  
Fusion: The Smurfs

"I'm not sure where he smurfed the lube," said Wizard Smurf's round bottom and pert blue tail as it bobbed about while the rest of Wizard Smurf kept smurfing about under the bed.

Normally, this would have been the smurfiest sight to be greeted with on his unexpectedly early return from his smurfberry foraging trip, but... _smurfing lube_ , and it wasn't him but the stupidly handsome Chivalrous Smurf standing casually over Wizard Smurf watching him wriggle... A purple haze crept over Smurf Charming's vision and there was a smurfish sort of buzz in his ears, like when he had been stung by the Bzzz Fly. "What the smurf is going on here?"

Wizard Smurf smurfed his head on the bottom of the bed with a yelp. Smurfed him right, Smurf Charming thought bitterly as he quietly set down the smurfberries before he smurfed them all into pulp. Chivalrous Smurf only gave him an innocent little wave. "I was just asking Wizard Smurf if he had some lube," said the treacherous Smurf pleasantly. "Smithevere was smurfing on the prototype smurfmobile and ran out, and we didn't want to bother Doctor Smurf."

All very neat and smurfable, of course, but Smurf Charming wasn't fooled. He could see how Chivalrous Smurf tracked Wizard Smurf's bottom as he wriggled back out from under the bed, and he remembered how Wizard Smurf's eyes had shone when he told Doctor Smurf about the way brave Chivalrous Smurf had saved him from the Howlibird.

"You're back!"Wizard Smurf said brightly as he sat up, dusting off his cap and arms and beaming at Chivalrous Smurf as though they had not been smurfably interrupted by Smurf Charming's intrusion. "I found it!" he said, holding up a smurfbunny-covered bottle of smurfmobile lubricant. "But it's empty too."

"That's all right, Wizard Smurf, thank you. I'll try asking Knight-smith Smurf, then. Welcome back, Smurf Charming." Chivalrous Smurf smiled benignly at Smurf Charming and let himself out.

As soon as the door closed behind Chivalrous Smurf, Smurf Charming stormed up and caught Wizard Smurf just as he got to his feet, and walked him backwards to the bed. Wizard Smurf folded and fell over as the back of his knees hit the side of the bed, and Smurf Charming had him pinned underneath in a Smurf's heartbeat. "Smurf Charming! What-" Smurf Charming stopped his words with a hard kiss, smurfing greedily at Wizard Smurf's mouth and throat until he melted and went all smurfy-lidded, kissing back just as intently.

"Is this what you smurf up to when I am away? Smurfing about for Chivalrous Smurf with your tail in the air?" he snarled, shoving his hips against Wizard Smurf's, letting the panting Smurf feel him thrust his smurfness hard and hot against him.

Wizard Smurf's eyes shot open, wide and furious. "This- You think-" He stopped, and bit Smurf Charming's lip hard, thrusting his equally hard smurfness back against Smurf Charming's. They both groaned as they rubbed against each other, then Wizard Smurf bared his teeth. "Yes! And I went out smurfing with Drunk Smurf too! And yesterday, Knight-smith Smurf came to show me how to use his tools too! That's why we're out of the smurfing lube!"

Smurf Charming smurfed an inarticulate noise and ripped at Wizard Smurf's white leggings, practically smurfing them into shreds while Wizard Smurf smurfed his fingers hard into Smurf Charming's bottom, managing to pull his leggings halfway down. And half-way was quite enough for Smurf Charming to turn Wizard Smurf over and press his bared smurfness into Wizard Smurf's tight entrance.

Too tight. Wizard Smurf grunted in pain, and Smurf Charming gathered himself enough to smurf out the lube from their bedside table and smurf far too much onto his hand. He cursed and smurfed it sloppily over his smurfness, then pushed into Wizard Smurf's resisting body as they both groaned at the smurfing pressure. "Smurf Charming," Wizard Smurf gasped, and trembled under him, and Smurf Charming nearly lost control at the hot clutch of Wizard Smurf's body around his smurfness as he pulled out and thrust in again.

"Your smurf is mine," he growled, fucking into Wizard Smurf with long, slow strokes, so deep the velvet nub of Wizard Smurf's tail rubbed against his belly, savouring Wizard Smurf's muffled moans. He slapped Wizard Smurf's hand away from his leaking smurfness and took Wizard Smurf in hand himself, smurfing him in time to his thrusts. "Remember that."

"Yours," Wizard Smurf agreed. "Faster, Smurf Charming, faster, smurf you!"

* * *

**61**  
 **Fusion:** Resident Evil

The exit is literally _right fucking **there**_ but one of those damn, bugger-fuck, creepy ass zombie dogs is down the hallway and in the way. Its skinless muzzle and exposed jawbone ripping into the wet, red ruin of a nearby torso. Just run in and get the kid from Hive’s living quarters and he’s a free man, contract voided and Umbrella can kiss his fabulous ass.

Easy peasy.

Right.

Wrong! Of _course_ wrong. Gwaine’s down to his handgun and fucked, unless he can get them out that door and to the helicopter. He can’t afford to miss even one shot and those doberman’s are fucking _fast_.

“So, kid. What’s your name?”

The boy glares up at him from under a shaggy mop of dark hair, out of breath and sullen in the dim light of the storage closet their hiding in. “Merlin, and I’m not a **child**. I’m an intern.”

Christ! The kid couldn’t be more than seventeen, and he’s _already_ undergound? He must be something special then.

“Well Merlin, I’m Gwaine.” His trademark grin was a bit strained but he forged on bravely. “Now, this has been quite a ride and we’re almost out of here, but just in case something goes horribly wrong at the last minute I wanted to tell you that you have gorgeous eyes mate. Gorgeous.” He really wasn’t lying, the kid has almost scary beautiful blue eyes.

“Really? _Really_? Have you lost your damn mind?!” Not the most encouraging reaction, but still, Gwaine could work with it. He smiles almost apologetically before wrapping an arm around the boy and pulling him close. “Yeah,” he murmurs against that cupid’s bow mouth. “Fucking _gorgeous_.” The merc insists, squeezing his ass firmly in emphasis.

Merlin lets out an astonished little gurgle and Gwaine moves in to capture his mouth, nibbling lightly at his bottom lip before his tongue sweeps in and takes over. He may have ulterior motives but this might be the last kiss either of them get so Gwaine takes the time and effort to make it good. Bringing the intensity up til Merlin’s gasping, grasping at his body armor and then slowing down and gentling it until the boy is shaking in his arms and pulling at him.

Gwaine’s still uncomfortably aware of the door behind them and the weight of the gun in his free hand. So he attempts to speed things up a bit by backing them against the wall and lifting Merlin with the one arm to quickly position his thigh for best results. Merlin’s eyes go comically wide in disbelief, then flutter in pleasure, as he works it in small rhythmic circles against the boyishly eager cock suddenly straining the fabric between coltish thighs. Never let it be said that skilled mercs, near death experiences, and crazed teenage hormones didn’t make for good sex.

“ _Ohmygod_!” Merlin whines into his mouth, all swollen lips and stubble burnt jaw. “What are you _doing_?!”

Gwaine just shushes him, undoes the button on Merlin’s pants and rips open the zipper. He sets the gun down on the shelving unit next to them covers Merlin’s mouth with one gloved hand, then pulls the other glove off with his teeth and spits it to the floor. Merlin’s glaring at him and biting ineffectually at his leather covered palm, tense, but otherwise not fighting. “Easy baby.” Gwaine orders, amused and mouthing at his hand til it’s sloppy wet. “I’m making this good for you.”

The kid’s face is this adorable shade of scarlet when Gwaine pulls his cock out of these prim white briefs and works the slick over its length. One smooth twist of the wrist over the angry red tip of it has Merlin bucking helplessly against the wall, gives him enough juice to make this fast and hard. The wet slap of skin against skin the only sound in the room with the kid’s needy cries completely muffled by Gwaine’s grip.

He’s quick and ruthless about it, jacking hard til Merlin’s screaming and heaving against him and the hot spill of cum fills his palm. Almost immediately Gwaine’s shoving the boy into a easily defended corner and quietly opening the door to wipe his hand, leaving a thick smear across the floor. Trap set he easily disposes the last obstacle between them and freedom while it’s curiously lapping at the congealing mess.

* * *

**62**  
Crossover - Hawaii 5-0

“I almost lost you today,” Merlin whispered into the warm skin at Arthur’s throat, his voice husky with remember fear. He clutched desperately at the fabric of his partner’s shirt, the material bunched tight in his fists. “If it hadn’t been for Commander McGarrett --”

“Shhhhh,” Arthur soothed. “It’s okay, Merlin. I’m here.” He gently tipped Merlin’s head up, looking deep into bright blue eyes. “I’m here,” he breathed,resting their foreheads together. “It’s all right.”

It had almost been the exact opposite of “all right.” Even though it involved international cooperation, the case was simple. The task force created by the Governor of Hawaii had captured one Edwin Muirden, a fugitive Arthur and Merlin had been tracking for months, in Honolulu. 

Peddling the designer drug “Cure All” -- a drug that, when cut with certain opiates, gave a high unlike any seen before -- Muirden had managed to dodge Her Majesty’s agents for months. Merlin and Arthur had devoted everything they had to catching Muirden when a pure form had hit the streets, driving people mad. And then the bodies started dropping.

For weeks, they’d tracked his every move, marked all of his known associates. They’d been ready to move in on his main operations factory when he just...disappeared. No one knew where he’d gone, or at least they weren’t tell Her Majesty’s agents. The trail had gone completely cold until they’d gotten a call from Detective Danny Williams of the 5-0 Task Force in Hawaii.

Muirden had been picked up when he tried to sell Cure All to an undercover officer. Considering their involvement, Merlin and Arthur had insisted on personally seeing to his transport back to England. 

From the time they stepped foot on Hawaiian soil, _nothing_ had gone right. 

Arthur had been kidnapped on the way 5-0 headquarters, and it was only Steve McGarrett’s reassurance that 5-0 was the best in the business -- and seeing that for himself -- that had kept Merlin from flying completely apart.

Merlin reached out and slowly unbuttoned Arthur’s shirt, stopping to run gentle fingers over the scrapes and scratches that decorated Arthur’s chest. He tenderly drew the shirt down Arthur’s arms, throwing it over his shoulder to land somewhere in the dark of the room. He toyed idly with the fastening to Arthur’s trousers, looking up through inky lashes before surging forward to capture Arthur’s lips in a deep, desperate kiss.

“Merlin?” Arthur whispered, burying his fingers into the hair at Merlin’s nape.

“I --” Merlin begged. “Arthur, I need --”

“Shhhh,” Arthur breathed. “I know. I know.” He stood still and allowed Merlin to slowly finish undressing him, lead him to the bed, and lay him down. When he reached for Merlin, his hands were batted away and Merlin glared sternly as he undressed and straddled Arthur’s hips. 

Merlin’s hand and lips wandered all over Arthur’s body, kiss, licking, fondling, and caressing. He took his time examining every inch he could reach, making sure that Arthur really was all right, reaffirming that neither of them had lost from their ordeal. 

Arthur hissed as Merlin sucked deeply at the join of his shoulder and neck and moaned loud and long when his partner wrapped a hand around his cock. Merlin stroked firmly as he leaned up and kissed Arthur, demanding entrance to his mouth and tangling their tongues together. He swallowed Arthur’s gasp when he reached lower, teasing lightly at Arthur’s hole.

Arthur’s whimper of loss as Merlin pulled his hands away turned to a moan of longing when he looked up to see Merlin with his back arched and one hand working his own cock while he buried his fingers deep into his own body. The brief thought of _When did he --_ was lost as Merlin rose up over him and then slowly lowered himself onto Arthur’s cock. 

Merlin rode him hard and rough, their moans and cries filling the room. Arthur reached up and pulled Merlin down to him, crushing their lips together as he dragged his hand down Merlin’s back. He teased at their joining, rubbing at the puckered skin of Merlin’s hole and gasping to feel himself driving into his lover. 

Merlin whined when Arthur slipped a finger in next to his cock. He wailed and arched back as his orgasm overcame him, painting Arthur’s chest. The sight of him was so erotic that it pushed Arthur over the edge, and he joined his lover in a long release.

* * *

**63**  
[Fusion with _Teen Wolf_.]

Arthur’s house is pristine – weapons hidden and organised with care, werewolf lore books neatly slipped between fairytales and fantasy, random knick-knacks displayed to make the place feel less barren – so naturally, his father finds fault with everything. 

But Arthur is a born hunter, it’s in his blood, and even with Uther breathing down his neck, he tracks down a werewolf pack ravaging a supermarket: rabid, out of control, lucky that there’s no one around to maul – this time. 

After, Uther claps his shoulder and hands him newspaper clippings containing sightings of another wolf nearby, and says, “I trust you’ll make me proud.”

*

Yellow eyes stare back at him from the trees, too close to the town, to destroying lives; Arthur’s aim is unerring. But the night is warm and his finger slips on the trigger, just a little; the werewolf yelps when the bullet grazes its thigh, snarls at them. Arthur’s heart beats loudly, measuring time in rapid _thump thump thump_ s, and then the wolf limps off into the woods. 

They don’t find its trail. 

He listens to Uther’s lecture quietly; bows his head.

*

It’s wrong; he knows it is. 

He opens the window, anyway, lets Merlin climb inside. Outside, the full moon is fading into the pale morning sky.

Merlin looks angry, crowds him against a wall, and Arthur slips his fingers into the tear of Merlin’s jeans, finds the scar where the wound has already healed, where the wolfsbane bullet wasn’t quite able to poison his blood.

Merlin growls, slams Arthur back against the wall of his bedroom, his eyes going faintly yellow again. 

“Be quiet, you idiot,” Arthur says, inclines his head towards where his father is, on the other side of the wall. 

“What the hell was that,” Merlin hisses, and Arthur shuts him up, licks over Merlin’s still too-sharp teeth, and it’s not his fault if this is the only way to keep Merlin quiet, so he doesn’t feel guilty about pulling at Merlin’s hair and deepening the kiss – he doesn’t.

Merlin’s reaction is immediate, biting at Arthur’s lips and digging possessive fingers into his hips, sharp nails piercing skin. He growls a little, but it’s softer now, closer to pleased, and if Arthur’s cock hardens just then, it’s a coincidence; he’s been pumped with adrenaline all night, after all.

Merlin drags him to the floor, graceless and eager, and the anger has definitely left him now: he buries his nose in Arthur’s neck and breathes, inhales deeply, starts licking greedy stripes; Arthur cups the back of his head, unthinking.

He can’t even count the ways in which this is wrong: Merlin is dangerous, out of control, and some day, Arthur thinks, he’s going to hurt someone. It’s Arthur’s duty to take him out. 

Gwen left him because she could not bear to live by the rules, to kill monsters, and he let her walk, his heart broken and hollow; he let her walk because it was his fucking _duty_ , and here he is rutting on the floor with this stupid kid who’s barely even eighteen, and if there is a hell, then Arthur’s ticket has been booked for months now. 

But how was he supposed to pull the trigger when he remembered Merlin as the boy with the innocent smile who always somehow ended up riding his bike near Arthur’s house; who plucked flowers for Gwen, but gave them to Arthur; who was sweet and cheeky and contrary, and stupid, stupid, stupid; who made him realise belatedly that those dead rabbits on his porch during the full moon had not been threats, after all.

How is he supposed to pull the trigger when Merlin still makes him laugh, when Merlin’s the only one to invade his house when it is too empty?

Merlin is still high on the full moon: he drapes himself over Arthur’s back, rips off clothes with sharp nails, impatient. Arthur is ready for him, knew this would come; he lets his head thunk softly against the wall when Merlin starts fucking him. Merlin bites the back of him neck, licks it, and Arthur muffles his moan with the back of his own hand. Merlin huffs, wants to hear him, but Arthur strokes a soothing hand up his thigh, murmurs, “C’mon.” 

Merlin growls against the back of his neck, displeased; snarls, “Mine,” and Arthur’s heart trips over itself; his cock spurts a little. The wall is cold against his cheek, and he tries to think “I’m sorry” through it, but only manages “fuck, yes, yes, _yes_ ” instead.

* * *

**64**  
Fusion: Supernatural

“Are you tired of it?” Merlin asked, kissing down Arthur’s exposed neck. “Of all this running?”

“Mmm, not at the moment,” Arthur smirks and brings Merlin back up to kiss him. They are already naked, entwined on the lumpy motel bed. It is nothing for Arthur to reach between them and stroke Merlin’s erection.

Merlin closes his eyes, wanting to forget the stained, peeling walls and focus on the feel of Arthur. He moans as Arthur’s hands increase their pace.

Their bags are still packed. Everything they own stuffed into the stretched canvas of gym bags. Neither of them have bothered unpacking during the last three years.

“More,” Merlin whimpers, hitching his leg higher up on Arthur’s waist, giving him room to reach behind and slowly prepare Merlin for what’s about to happen. One finger at a time slipping in, stretching, slowly undoing Merlin.

There are ways to speed this up. Merlin knows just the spell that would lubricate and stretch him, have him ready for Arthur to penetrate and take. But not tonight, and definitely not after being forced to move once again.

Arthur’s fingers curl, stroke deep inside him and Merlin arches back, riding out the ecstasy.

Magic is what brought them here. Merlin’s big secret, the one thing he was never supposed to let anyone know about. His mother had ingrained that into him.

But then he had met Arthur, and young love hit him hard and fast. It didn’t help that Arthur attracted supernatural trouble like no other. A simple camping trip brought our wendigos, every other full moon a werewolf, and around every corner there was a vengeful spirit. And Merlin, young and in love, had believed he had found the purpose for his gift; to protect Arthur.

And then Arthur had loved him back.

“Are you ready?” Arthur moans, his face tight in concentration.

“Yes.”

He removes his fingers, drawing them out and leaving Merlin feeling oddly empty. The cold jolt of lube covered fingers return and withdraw.

Arthur enters him with one deep thrust.

When he had found out about Merlin’s magic was the first time they pulled each other’s clothes off and brought each other to climax using their hands and mouth. Arthur had seen the golden eyes flash, and unlike all the warnings Merlin’s mother had tried to drill into his head, Arthur hadn’t been afraid and he hadn’t hated him. Instead he had sucked an earth shattering climax out of Merlin.

The same sort of climax that Merlin could feel building now. With every thrust and movement of Arthur behind him, Merlin felt himself get closer and closer to the edge, gripping the floral-printed comforter.

Unfortunately not everyone was as accepting as Arthur and his mother. Kids at school had known something was off about that Emerys kid and Merlin had only been seventeen when the first Hunter came to town. Apparently Arthur Pendragon had been saved from so many odd and supernatural occurrences that it had caught the attention of the Hunters. The group of people who hunted people like Merlin.

That first one, a Hunter named Bobby, had taken one look at Merlin’s young, scared face, and how he held Arthur’s hand. The Hunter had sighed and told him to run until he couldn’t anymore and then just keep on running.

“And if you ever kill someone, I’ll shoot you myself.”

That had been a nice Hunter.

“Come on!” Arthur commands, thrusting erratically now. But Merlin doesn’t need the encouragement, he’s already coming, spraying the comforter below them. Arthur doesn’t last much longer.

They collapse into a heap, barely able to move.

Every time they enter a new motel room they like to christen it this way. Ever since they were seventeen and took that Hunter’s advice. At twenty the two of them were completely isolated, trying their hardest to ignore the world of the supernatural and avoid the attention of the many small towns they moved into.

“Do you regret it?” Merlin asks quietly as their breath returns to normal.

“No.”

* * *

**65**  
crossover: scooby-doo!

God, Arthur _hated_ meeting people in the business. Freaks, the lot of them.

He used to be ok with the Mystery, Inc. gang as they came equipped with: never-ending albeit bizarre amalgamations of snacks, a van with the most atrocious paintjob that shocked braying laughter out of him the first time he saw it and that Merlin honestly loved, and Velma who had an encyclopaedic knowledge of esoteric trivia that outstripped even Merlin’s and could cower Arthur with a look that rivaled, maybe even surpassed, Gaius’ eyebrow. Not to mention they were all blessedly human, and thus free from any unnatural, _uncivilised_ inclinations towards Merlin, who was akin to supernatural catnip, the big-eared idiot.

Merlin was pure magic, and attracted everything with a sliver of blood of the same. He appeared limned in sunlight to them, bathed in gold. But as a human boy, Merlin was often overlooked -- more awkward and gangly than fae and ethereal. He had the tendency to attract soft-hearted, big-chested girls who would take him home, draw him to their strangely heaving bosoms (Merlin would later recount), and not look terribly sad or surprised when he broke the news of his homosexuality to them. Merlin just wasn’t- he wasn’t obvious. His was a beauty that grew on you, _plagued_ you. The kind of looks, the kind of quirks, that appreciated more quality over time, that somehow became a revelation. You’d find yourself unconsciously tracing the memory of the jut of his cheekbones with your fingers, getting lost in probing thoughts of what it might feel like to press the pad of your thumb against the distracting dent of that lower lip and just slightly _push_ \--

And now it looked like Fred had turned the corner, bloody well tripped and impaled himself on those dangerous cheekbones and didn’t look all that mindful to get up ever again. What did they even have to talk about? A mutual taste in offensive neckwear? Surely nothing would necessitate Merlin’s long, slim tapered fingers pressing so suggestively against Fred’s chest.

Why were they still hanging around here anyway? They’d gone over Fred’s plan, which featured a perplexing and unnecessary amount of levers and pulleys, Arthur hadn’t said, because unlike some people who couldn’t keep their hands off other people’s idiot boyfriends, Arthur had manners. He rolled off his chair with a startling wobble and stared at the empty bottle in his hand and the empties nestled like ducklings around his feet. Huh.

“If you’re quite finished,” he said, too loudly.

Merlin turned to him, and he had that familiar sharp look on his face, before he took in Arthur’s appearance entirely and his eyes softened into a much nicer look. “Can’t take you anywhere,” he murmured, and it was strange that he could make those words sound so sweet, pair them even sweeter with his soft touches and guiding hands as he led Arthur to their car and helped him in.

“What were you two talking about? You and _Fred_ ,” he elaborated.

Merlin stared at him. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“It’s a simple question.”

“Don’t even start. Contrary to your opinion, the entire world does _not_ want to shag me!”

“You were talking for hours! What do you possibly have in common with him besides hideous taste in neckwear? Your hands were _all over him_.”

“We were talking about ascots, you berk! Specifically, the four ways to tie them in dress and day cravat mode. Riveting stuff,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Will you ever stop being so jealous?”

He palmed the front of his Merlin’s trousers knowingly, before he unzipped them deftly. “Only if you’ll ever stop loving it this much,” he said before he leaned down and mouthed at the hard shape of Merlin’s cock through the thin cotton of his y-fronts.

“God," Merlin groaned. “We’re parked right outside. Someone might see.”

“You want me to stop?”

“ _Fuck no_ , I want you to get on with it. Don’t tell me you’re choosing now to learn about foreplay.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed. He’d totally get Merlin back for that foreplay comment. Start by tying him down and licking him open and leaving him leaking all over himself for hours. Arthur hummed happily at the thought as he mouthed messily at the head of Merlin’s cock, before his lips opened and stretched around him.

* * *

**66**  
Crossover: Sherlock (BBC)

 

"I bet he likes to take it bent over a table," Gwaine grins.

"Nah," Will answers. "He doesn't look the type."

"How do you even _look_ the type to like anything?" Arthur asks.

Merlin glances at Arthur from under his lashes, catches the darkening of Arthur's eyes. They discussed what things people liked last night after Merlin tied Arthur to the bed and fucked him.

Upper class, forever proper Arthur liked to be held down and fucked until he screamed. Arthur who was head of Pendragon Corp. got off on having his hair pulled as he sucked Merlin's cock. Arthur, with his blond hair and posh accent, liked it when Merlin came on his face and worked it into his hair.

There was very little to be said about appearances as far as Merlin was concerned.

"That bloke looks like he's got a bigger stick up his arse than Pendragon," Will throws back at Gwaine. "No fucking way is he taking it anywhere near his arse."

"He's giving it then," Gwaine says.

Merlin watches Arthur, Gwaine and Will turn to the two men sitting on the bench at the park across from where the lot of them are having lunch. Merlin's more discreet about turning.

The men are sitting a friendly distance from each other. The taller of them with the dark curls and green eyes is jiggling his foot as he stares at the street to his left, his fingers tapping away at a mobile. He's wearing a trench coat and the expression on his face borders on irritated. The shorter man has a military cut that matches the set of his jaw. He's just kind of staring at his hands and occasionally throwing an exasperated glance at the man next to him.

"I dare you to ask them," Will says.

"What are you, six," Arthur mocks.

"Nope," Gwaine says, but he's already standing. "If anything we're more like twelve."

-

John Watson is a patient man, but Sherlock Holmes has stretched that patience thin ever since they met.

Today, for example. John is supposed to be on a date with Sarah, the girl from the cafe where John gets coffee in the mornings. He's supposed to be charming his way into her pants, could be fucking her at this very moment if things went well. Instead, he's sitting on a bench in a park somewhere in London. He's also pretty sure the four men in the restaurant across the street are checking him out.

"You probably wouldn't have gotten very far with Sarah."

"And why the fuck not?" John snaps keeping his eye on the man with the messy brown hair and the suggestive smile.

"Because," Sherlock says. "She was wearing a wedding ring." 

John says nothing.

"You're not very observant, are you?"

John would beg to differ. 

"Those four men who keep looking our way," Sherlock asks. "Do you know them?"

Blue eyes on two of them. One blond. One with black curls. Two with brown hair.

"No."

"I didn't think you did. They've been watching us for a while. The pale one with the dark hair is trying to be discreet about it. And the blond thinks he's above whatever petty nonsense the other three are discussing."

"How do you know?"

"His shoes."

"Of course."

"From the way they're looking at us," Sherlock goes on. "I assume they think we're together."

"You know," John says watching as the men get up. "This wouldn't keep happening if you let me go on dates."

"Sarah was married."

"I didn't want her for a bloody relationship."

And sure, it sounds bad when John says it out loud, but he's sitting on a bench waiting for a potential murderer to show up when he could be having his brains sucked out through his cock.

"Excuse me, mate. Quick question, who buggers who?"

"Will!"

"What," the man called Will shrugs. "Better to go straight to the point."

John sighs, turns to Sherlock. "Is there no one in the world who actually cares that we're not homosexuals?"

Sherlock doesn't even glance up from the text he's sending. "No," he answers.

"Excuse me," John raises an eyebrow. 

"It wasn't the schoolteacher," Sherlock answers, looks up and then. "Who are you?"

The kid with the dirty grin extends a hand. "Gwaine."

"Will."

"Arthur."

"Merlin."

John can feel the beginnings of that pulsing headache he gets after a long day following Sherlock. He looks to the men in front of him.

"Seriously," John asks.


End file.
